Titans
by WAGreenMonkey
Summary: Old friends Robin, Wonder Girl, Kid Flash and Beast Boy (as he will forever be known) band together with some new faces to save the world. Trouble ensues. - A modern adaptation of The New Teen Titans. Rated T for possible mild language and potentially 'adult' references. May be raised in the future due to references to violence.
1. A Freak Among Freaks

**A/N: Main note at the bottom; if you like the chapter ahead of you, I would really appreciate it if you could give it a quick read. Thank you!**

 **I do not own 'The New Teen Titans', or any of its characters.**

* * *

New York, New York. The city that never sleeps.

And, yet, one particular Manhattan street lay dark and still, completely deserted, until a man turned a corner, his shoulders hunched against the biting winter wind, his footsteps and angry words shattering the silence.

"They didn't mean a thing to me," he muttered, shaking his head as he stalked down the sidewalk, on a mission. "You're all I want, Carol. All I've ever..." He slowed, a long sigh escaping his lips as he stopped, hanging his head. For a second, he let his stiff upper lip drop, propping himself up against the brick wall of the apartment building beside him. After all this time, after everything they had been through together... She'd never forgive him. Not this time. "It's hopeless."

He straightened, cast his eyes longingly to the townhouse across the street, hoped to see a glimpse of his love in her window. But all was dark in her apartment.

She was probably sleeping. It was late, after all. He could picture her, curled up on her side, one arm hidden under the pillow, the other tucking the covers under her chin. She hated the cold, but hated sleeping in long pyjamas more. Had always said she slept better in shorts, even if that meant braving the cold on nights like these. She would always moan as they got into bed, her legs bare and her teeth almost chattering. Once they were under the covers, she would wriggle closer to him, as close as she could possibly get, every inch of her pressed to his side. He would grumble, wrap an arm around her shoulders and complain about her cold feet. He would tell her to start wearing socks to bed. She would wrinkle her nose and make a noise of disgust, tangling their feet together, ignoring his half-hearted protests. Her breathing would soften and she would drift into a peaceful sleep, content beside him.

He would watch her for a while, run his fingers through her caramel hair and praise every decision he had ever made that had led him to her.

In the morning, she would wake him with a smile and a kiss, and say that she had slept perfectly in her choice of pyjamas. He would raise an eyebrow, drawing a mischievous grin from the woman before him as she left to make coffee for them both. He would watch her leave, far too in love to call her out on using him as her personal radiator. He didn't mind. Not really. He knew he would put up with her cold feet every night for the rest of his life if it meant he could wake up to that smile every morning.

He wondered if she had started wearing socks to bed.

He sniffed, wiping a hand down his face as he brought himself back to the here and the now. It was no use thinking about what was, or what might have been. That life was over, and so were they. She wouldn't care what he had to say now. Not so long ago, at the club, going to her apartment had seemed like the best plan ever to be thought up. Maybe it was the cold air or the forty-five minutes that it had taken him to walk here, but he had since started sobering up, and now he was beginning to see what a god-awful idea this was.

"Oh, hey, Carol," he said mockingly, grimacing at the air in front of him. "It's so great to see you. How've you been? Yes, I'm drunk, but only a little bit, because I left the strip-club-crawl that I was on with those friends of mine you hate early because I wanted to wake you up at 12am to tell you I love you, and I'm sorry I slept with your ex best friend." He nodded, sniffed again, almost impressed with his own idiocy. "Great plan, Grant. Great plan."

He dropped his head back against the brick wall, closed his eyes in defeat. _Go home, Grant_. He opened his eyes, blew out a breath, and pushed off from the wall, taking his own advice.

He hadn't made it two blocks, though, when a twinkling in the sky caught his eye.

Now, Grant Wilson had never really been the kind of man to put a lot of stock into things like _signs from the universe_ or whatever. He knew there was no one looking out for him. The was no bigger calling, no destiny, no omnipotent being with a plan for him. His fate, his choices, his luck, was all his own. But there was something about this particular star, so bright and beautiful in a sky so dark, so empty, outshining everything around it and stealing all of his attention that brought his thoughts back to his original, terrible goal. Maybe he was looking for a reason to turn back around. Maybe he was grasping at straws. Maybe it was a complete coincidence.

But, whatever it was, it was enough.

That is, until he realised that whatever it was was getting closer, and it was headed straight for him.

In that moment, as time slowed and his vision became so filled with such a bright light that he began to see spots, Grant barely managed to throw himself to the side, out of the way of this fireball's path. He crawled behind a car as the construction site he had been standing right next to not five seconds ago collapsed in on itself, dust and what smelled like smoke blowing out onto the street, covering anything close by.

Grant was ready to bolt, to run before anything could set ablaze, or collapse even further, or someone called the cops; he did _not_ need another run in with the cops. But he heard something, quiet, barely even audible. At first, he wasn't sure he'd heard what he thought he'd heard. Maybe it was the wood creaking with all the damage it had recently undergone. Maybe it had come from an open window in one of the many apartments around him. Maybe...

And then he heard it again, louder this time, and _definitely_ coming from the ruins of the site.

Coughing.

Despite his better judgement, and despite the very _loud_ voice in his head telling him to run, Grant jumped up and approached the building, pulling the neck of his sweater up over his nose and mouth as he entered the new gaping hole in the front of the building.

"Hello?" he called out. His voice was muffled by his clothing, but he didn't dare remove it from his face. Sure, he wanted to help if someone was in here, hurt, in danger, but he wasn't suicidal. He waited a beat, strained his ears for any noise, his eyes for any movement. Nothing. "Hello!" This time, a quiet whimper came from his right, and he turned, took several more careful steps towards the direction of the noise. The first thing he saw under some of the rubble was long, bright red hair. But it was the golden skin and what looked to be a bonafide spacesuit that stopped him in his tracks.

* * *

Carol Sladky awoke with a start, and laid still for a moment, staring up at the moon through the skylit above her, wondering what it was that had woken her up. It was the middle of the night, pitch black outside, and all was quiet...

And then someone started pounding on her studio apartment door.

Grumbling, she threw the covers back and jumped out of bed, intent on giving whatever idiot was banging on her door right now a very large, very _pissed off_ piece of her mind. She'd gotten home from the hospital after an 18 hour shift late that night, and all she'd wanted to do was _sleep_.

"This better be _really_ freaking important," she bit out as she swung the door open, glaring at the culprit until she recognised the oh so familiar face. She hadn't even heard from Grant in weeks, not since she'd found out about his many drunken... antics. She didn't know when she'd see him again. Wasn't sure if she'd even wanted to. But the wave of emotion that washed over her when she saw him at her front door was so strong, so overwhelming, that she almost didn't notice the unconscious girl in his arms. Almost.

"It is really freaking important," he said after a beat, his eyes pleading. "I need your help."

Carol managed to pull her eyes away from his to inspect the girl he was carrying. Beautiful red hair, the curls so long they touched the floor. Some sort of bodysuit, lilac and tight over her generous curves. Skin covered in something gold, almost glowing. She couldn't see her face, but Carol just _knew_ she was beautiful.

She turned back to Grant, raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?" she asked, blunt. Grant faltered.

"I didn't... I didn't do anything."

Carol snorted. "Sure." Despite her doubts, both about Grant's 'innocence' and her next decision, Carol opened the door wider and let him in, gesturing to the couch.

"Carol, I swear," Grant tried again, lowering the girl down onto the couch and switching the nearest lamp on before turning back to her as she closed the door. "I was walking down the street, and I saw this, like, I don't know, I thought it was a star, at first, but then I realised it was moving, moving towards me, so I jumped out of the way and it crashed into that apartment building a few blocks away that they're doing construction work on, and then I heard someone in there, and it was her." Grant turned back to the girl a second, looking concerned. "She doesn't look hurt, but I also couldn't wake her up."

"So you brought her here?" Carol asked him, her eyebrows raised.

Grant nodded, as if saying _well_ _duh_. "You're a doctor."

It took Carol a second to respond. "There are a lot more doctors at the _hospital_. You should have called 911."

"I..." Grant cut himself off, looked away for a second. By now, she knew what guilt looked like on his face.

"Grant."

Grant blew out a breath, nodded to himself. "I didn't want to call 911, because... I mean, I'm pretty sure the thing that fell from the sky was... Well, was her."

"... How much have you had to drink tonight, Grant?"

Grant huffed. "She has gold skin, for crying out loud!"

Carol smiled. "You're right, she must have fallen from the sky. Just like anyone that has ever worn _body paint_ before." She shook her head, folding her arms across her chest. "Half the actors on any sci-fi show you've ever seen have had to wear body paint once or twice."

Grant's unimpressed expression let her know that he no longer found her sarcasm endearing.

"Then what's up with the space suit?"

Carol looked over her shoulder at the girl, the spacesuit in question, and shrugged. "I'm pretty sure my sister has one just like it." Grant sighed, ran a hand down his face. It was enough to make Carol question whether she _really_ needed to be quite so flippant. She shrugged again, turned to the girl. "I suppose, though, since you did find her in a collapsed building, it wouldn't hurt to check her over."

Grant sighed, relieved. "Thank you," he said, his sincerity obvious in his tone. Carol smiled, kneeled down beside the girl.

"Though, maybe next time you could do everyone a favour and take her to an _actual_ hosp-"

Carol paused, a chill rushing down her spine.

"Did you leave a window open or something?" Grant asked, rubbing his hands over his arms. "You hate the cold."

Carol stood, wary, and turned back to Grant. It was then that she noticed the strange shadow in the corner of the room.

It didn't take long for Grant to catch on that something wasn't quite right. "What is that?" he asked quietly, after following her gaze and saw the same, eerie thing. Carol didn't answer him. She wasn't sure if she could. Though it really shouldn't have been possible, the shadows seemed to move. It almost looked as though they were growing, spreading across the walls even as they watched. Carol started to think she was imagining things. Then Grant cleared his throat. "I think we should leave."

"I think that's a good idea," she said quickly, the pair of them spinning back to the unconscious girl and then stopping short when they realised the three of them were no longer alone in the apartment.

"Who the hell are you?" Grant asked the silhouette, hovering over the girl. Too caught up in what was happening, Carol missed the way he moved his shoulder the tiniest amount, putting himself between her and the stranger. "How did you get in here?"

"How I got in doesn't matter," the stranger said. A dark hood was low over the strangers face, hiding it from the light of the moon above them, keeping it from view, but Carol could still feel the eyes burning into her _soul_. "The better question is why."

"I don't care _why_ you're here," Grant bit out, his anger masking the fear that must have been lurking underneath. He had always had a temper, but lately it had gotten much worse; and yet, in that moment, Carol really didn't seem to mind. "What I care about is you getting the hell out of my apartment."

The stranger tipped her head, barely a nod. "As you wish," the stranger said softly, staring down at the girl, still against the couch cushions. "Thank you for taking care of her. Your kindness will not be forgotten." The stranger looked up at them once more, the dark shadow where a face should be sending a chill down Carol's spine. "And you were correct. You should leave. Both of you. Quickly."

Before either one of them could ask what that meant, what the stranger knew that they didn't, the figure was gone, disappearing into the shadows like smoke, and taking the golden girl with her.

For a long moment, all the two could do was stare. Not seconds ago, there had been two other beings in the room with them. Now all that was left of either of them was a dark shadow, slowly fading into the darkened corners of the room like smoke.

"What the hell just happened?" Carol said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Grant didn't have an answer for her. The only response she got was the shattering of the skylight above them as something came crashing through it.

* * *

 _Robbie watches his parents from the shadows. He doesn't see the the sellout crowd, cheering from the stands, nor his family's colleagues preparing and practising their own acts around him. All he sees is his parents, flying high off the ground, flipping and swinging and twisting. A routine they had done countless times._

 _They had it perfected._

 _His eyes do not leave them as his mother, elegant and poised, attached to the high swing by only her legs, locked at the knees, reaches out for his father as he releases his own swing. His mother catches his father, his hands tight in hers, as she always had._

 _The crowd roars, delighted._

 _The ropes snap._

 _The swing falls._

 _So do his parents._

 _It isn't a new dream for Robbie, but as the cheering turns to horrified screams around him, as friends and guests alike rush to the floor, blocking the bodies of his parents from view, the same overwhelming sense of confusion and disbelief wash over him. He feels like he did that night, as though no time had passed at all. The grief in his heart pours out into his bones, chilling him from within, rooting him to that very spot._

 _He could have stopped this. He could have warned them. He could have saved them._

 _Through the crowd, the bustle and the wailing, he sees a new figure, unfamiliar in a sea of memory. They stand perfectly still, their face hidden from view with a low hood, but Robbie knew this person was looking for him. Waiting for him._

 _The crowd remains unaware, both of him and this newcomer, and yet it parts as he approaches, as he passes, almost as though they know. This was a path he must take._

 _He slows as he reaches the figure, ignorant now of the commotion around them. This person before him was all that mattered._

 _Delicate hands reach up, pull the hood back to reveal a pale face, calm and beautiful, framed by waves darker than the night sky. He has never seen this face before, he is sure of it. But something about her feels comforting. He doesn't know her. But he wants to._

 _"Who are you?" he asks her, his eyes searching hers. "Why are you here?"_

 _Her expression does not change, but she lifts her hands, places them gently on either side of his face. They are cold, but his cheeks warm at the touch, and the serenity in her eyes seems to fill his mind, his body. "Wake up, little Robin," she says softly, her tone comforting even as the words pierce his chest. It has been so long since he's heard those words. "I need you."_

Robbie opened his eyes, his chest heaving as the ceiling above him came into focus. A whole decade had passed since that night, and yet every time those memories came back to haunt him in his sleep, he still woke feeling like the little nine year old who had just witnessed his parents' deaths.

Yet, this one had seemed different. Yes, the grief was still fresh and heavy on his chest, and the guilt still lingered at the back of his mind. But there was something else, too... Something almost hopeful.

Robbie sat up, shifted to lean back against the headboard and stare into the shadows of his dark bedroom, catching his breath. It was then that he noticed something small and pale against the dark pillow beside him.

Something flashed before him, barely a memory, of pale against black, the difference stark and harsh and somehow befitting, and then it was gone again, and he was left simply staring at the new object.

He reached out, plucked it from the pillow. It was a note, small and rectangular, almost like a postcard. On one side, a drawing of a black bird, the name _Robin_ printed under it. On the other, a handwritten note.

 _A girl is in trouble. I need your help._

 _Make your way to Central Park, tonight._

 _Danny will find you._

No name other than his own pseudonym. No details. Why was he needed? What lay in Central Park? Who was Danny? More importantly, how the _hell_ did someone manage to get into his apartment and put a note right next to his head without waking him?

Oddly, and despite his better judgement and the time of night, Robbie found that none of those questions mattered. He jumped out of bed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand, dialling a number he knew by heart, and knew he could trust.

He was going to Central Park. And he wasn't going alone.

* * *

As his phone buzzed, Wally West grumbled, reaching out blindly for the noisy object on his night stand. He found it, almost threw it across the room and away from him, until he saw an old friend's face on the caller ID. Grumbling some more, louder now, he sat up, turned on the nearby lamp, and answered.

"Please tell me you're calling me for a nice chat, and not because you need me to come running to Gotham in the middle of the night," he said in lieu of a real greeting. He could hear the light laugh his friend gave him, though, so he knew he hadn't taken it to heart.

"I know better than to call you for a _nice chat_ when you're getting your beauty sleep," Robbie responded, and Wally's heart sank a little. "I need a favour."

"Uh-uh," Wally said quickly, shaking his head in the soft light of his room. "Whatever kind of help you need at this time of night is not help I'm interested in giving anymore." He tipped his head. "Unless you got yourself arrested or in trouble with a girl or something. Something _normal_."

Robbie was quite for a second. "Someone left a note on my pillow while I was sleeping telling me to meet them at Central Park. It was addressed to Robin. I'm going."

Wally shook his head again. "Sorry, you're on your own."

"Wally..."

"No, Rob, I'm out," he said. "I need time away from that life. I need to figure out whats going on in my head." Wally sighed, suddenly exhausted. "I want to help you, I do. But if I help you with this, I'll just get sucked back in."

He heard Robbie sigh quietly, resigned. "Okay," his old friend said. "I get it, I do. I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's cool," Wally replied, keeping the guilt rising in his throat from reaching his words. Robbie had never asked him to do anything he didn't want to. Never pushed him. But when the roles were reversed, Robbie didn't have any limits or restrictions when it came to helping his friends. And now, after everything they'd been through, Wally couldn't even make the short trip to Central Park to make sure his friend was safe.

But he was right. If he returned, even just for the night, something else would come up. Someone would need saving, or someone else would need his help, and he'd be stuck in that life again. He needed to be here, to focus on himself, his family. He needed to be selfish. It wasn't a luxury many people like him got, and he was going to make the most of it.

"I _am_ sorry, Robbie," Wally said quietly, blowing out a breath. "I just can't."

"I know," Robbie said, his tone comforting, despite the disappointment he knew he must be feeling. Wally _hated_ him for it. "But, if you wake up in the morning and they're talking about my dead body on the news, that's on you, buddy."

Wally smiled at the joke, almost laughing.

"I'll be sure to make up for it in your eulogy, then." Wally could hear the chuckle through the phone, not a hint of sarcasm or resentment in the sound.

"Go back to bed, Wally," Robbie said, the smile evident in his voice. "If I survive the night, I'll call you tomorrow."

"I'll pray for you," Wally responded, both of them saying their goodbyes and ending the call.

For a moment, Wally stared at the wall across from him, questioning his decision. If it were anyone else calling you, he wouldn't have thought twice about saying no. But Robbie had always been there when he'd needed him. Always. No questions asked. And now Wally couldn't return the favour. No, not couldn't. Wouldn't. Wouldn't help out a friend asking him only for his company.

Superheroes didn't get to retire. It wasn't an option for them. They were heroes, in their actions and in their blood. So how did Wally do it? By consistently letting down his friends? By say _no_ to people in need? By denying people his help?

Yes, he was being selfish. But he didn't choose this life. A freak accident turned him into what he was, gave him these abilities, and from that moment on he stopped being just Wally West. He'd become Kid Flash, first and foremost. For a while, he had been happy with that. He had liked helping people, _saving_ people, being a hero. But he was a kid back then, and so much had changed. All he wanted now was a regular life. Finish college, maybe get a doctorate, meet a girl, settle down. He didn't want the superhero life anymore. He wanted _that_ life. A boring, _human_ life.

But why did he get the luxury to choose, when so many others didn't?

Wally flopped back onto his bed, closing his eyes on a sigh when he hit the pillow. Half of him really wanted to go, to be with his friend, to help. The other half protested. Loudly.

He feels the bed shift under him, as though another body lay next to him. He turned his head to see an enchanting, but completely unfamiliar, face lying beside him. The face of a girl he had never seen before. Yet he felt no fear. No shock, no panic. Instead, her presence comforted him. That feeling should worry him, but he can't find it in himself to care.

"Who are you?" he asked. It was not a question born from worry, or unfamiliarity. He simply _needed_ to know this girl.

"You will get an answer to that soon enough," she promised quietly, her eyes entrancing him. He can't look away. "But, for now, I need you to do something for me."

Wally stares for a moment longer, committing her face to memory. It wasn't a face he ever wanted to forget. Finally, he nods.

"For you... Anything."

* * *

 _The flames grew higher, licking at the walls and filling the room with heat and smoke. A child sits on the ground, unable to move from both confusion and utter fear. So young. Too young. Too young to know what was happening, why it was so hot, why she couldn't breathe, why the adults lying beside her wouldn't wake up, wouldn't help her, even as her cries grew louder and more terrified, even as she hit them over and over, her tiny fists doing nothing to rouse them from their sleep._

 _Just then, as her cries turn to screams, something lifts her from the ground. A woman, tall and strong, clad in red and bronze, cradles the child to her chest, shielding her from the danger. The woman takes another look around the room, sees the bodies laying on the floor, still as stone. She knows she cannot help them. She was too late._

 _The girl holds on to the woman tightly, her tears leaving streaks down her dusty face. She feels safer here, protected, as she presses her face into the woman's chest, like she's trying to hide. She doesn't want to see the people on the floor, the scary flames, the crumbling walls, anymore._ _She wants to feel safe again._

 _If she hides here, maybe she will._

Donna opens her eyes, cutting off the memory. It's not as though she really remembered anything after that, anyway.

Everything from that moment on in her life was a blur. She knew the superhero Wonder Woman took her to Paradise Island after that. She knew she spent the better part of ten years there, learning all they had to teach her and training her to be like Diana, like all of them. She knew she came back when she was thirteen, where Diana adopted her, took care of her in this world. She knew she followed in Diana's footsteps after that, trained to do what she does, to save people and fight evil. She knew for the last five years she'd been doing a pretty damn good job of it. But, try as she might, she doesn't remember anything from her old life. She doesn't remember her parents, her home, her childhood. That one memory, set in the space where she now stood, the destroyed ruins of an old apartment building in Brooklyn, is all she can recall from her time before Diana, Hippolyta and Paradise Island, and even that memory has been darkened and warped by time.

Donna loved her life with the Amazons. They were wonderful, they taught her well. She knew she was loved, and she knew both Hippolyta and Diana treated her like their own daughter. But sometimes, Donna couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

She would give anything if she could only remember her mother's face, her voice, the feel of her arms around her.

But that wasn't possible. She'd tried hypnotherapy to recall lost and repressed memories, spoken to friends and colleagues whose abilities allowed them to see things others could not, she'd even sunken so low as to try high street psychics. And now she was playing detective, standing where that building had once stood, the building Diana had rescued her from. Since then, it had been knocked down, too damaged from the fire and subsequent squatters and vandalism to fix. Now it was barely a construction site, just a plot of land covered in rubble and debris, left to decay and gather dust in a run down neighbourhood.

She had hoped coming here, standing where she once had, would help bring something back.

All it did was anger her more.

She had always assumed those people she remembers in the fire, the bodies around her, were her parents. So when she realised no one would have come running up to Diana after she had saved her from the fire, she didn't think much of it. But did she have no other family? No one else who loved and cared for her? No one who missed her? A child rescued from near death by Wonder Woman had to have been big news. If she'd had any other family, and they'd known she and her parents were in that building, surely they would have known a child was saved, but left alone. Surely they would have wanted to find out to see if that child was her. Surely, as soon as they'd have realised it was her, that she was family, they would have insisted they take her in, that she stay with them, with family.

And yet, no one did. No one ever came looking for her. And as much as she loved the family she grew up with, and as lucky as she was to have been taken in by them, that still hurt.

Even as a child, barely three years old, she'd had no one who cared enough to find her.

Donna scoffed at her own tears. That was a whole lifetime ago, and no amount of tears would change it.

She turned, eager to leave this place and the missing memories behind, switching on her flashlight to help navigate her way through the dangerous remains of the building. And it's then that she saw the small white card, catching the light and her attention.

She approached it, slowly, cautiously. Crouching, leaning closer to the object propped up against what could have once been a window frame, Donna noticed a large black raven, under which was written the name Diana had given her so many years ago. _Wonder Girl_.

For a second, Donna stilled.

Then, grabbing the card and sliding it into her pocket, she left the old building, and quickly. She didn't know who left that note, or how they knew she would be there, but it couldn't add up to anything good.

She didn't slow as she made it to the sidewalk, nor as she climbed into her car. She didn't slow until she was halfway home, passing through Greenwich Village and was absolutely _certain_ no one had followed her that far. Still, just to be on the safe side, she pulled up outside a loud bar, jazz music floating past the smokers stood outside, and turned off the engine. If anyone _had_ followed her, she didn't really want to lead them straight to her front door.

Instead, while she hung out in the busy public space with lots of witnesses around, she pulled the small card back out of her pocket, her curiosity peaking now that the instinct to _get the hell out_ had subsided.

She flipped it over, ignoring the raven and the name that she had already seen, and focusing on what the message on the other side.

 _We can help you find the answers you seek._

 _Make your way to Central Park, tonight._

 _Danny will find you._

Donna didn't like that. She didn't like it at all.

Did the person who left this for her really know the kind of answers she was looking for? Or was this simply a well planned trick? Regardless, whoever it was _knew_ that she would be there, at that time. And they knew _why_ she was there.

She contemplated going straight home, she really did.

But it just wasn't very likely, was it?

* * *

The bell above the diner door rang, signalling his departure, and Garfield made his way out onto the cold, Upper East Side street, ice cream in hand. Damn the chill; if he wanted ice cream, he was having ice cream.

He meandered down the sidewalk, his hood low over his head, hands gloved, as though to ward off the cold air. Nobody looks twice as they passed him, too caught up in their own worlds, or too drunk, to notice him. To notice anyone, really. That was something he loved about Manhattan. Everybody had their own lives, their own friends, their own business. Anything that wasn't part of their world, didn't matter. It wasn't hard to be invisible here, and, sometimes, that was all Garfield wanted.

Finishing off the ice cream, scraping the last of it from the bottom of the tub, he paused long enough to throw it in a nearby trashcan. As he did, a store across the street caught his eye. Barely lit, the wide windows were mostly cast in shadow. But, as he approached, the few lights in the tanks on the adjacent wall grew. He could see, even from the window, the green-skinned lizards, shuffling around in the tanks that were their homes, or bathing in the warm light. All except one. One was hiding, his tongue barely visible as it flicked out from beneath a hollow log. Garfield couldn't help but smile.

He turned to leave, to return to his journey home, but as he did, he noticed a small, white card in the bottom corner of the window. He pulled it from the glass, intrigued, wondering if it was some kind of advertisement, maybe for the pet store. His breath caught, though, when he saw a familiar old name printed under a black raven. _Beast Boy_. He huffed, tired of the name. He was, after all, no longer a boy. Or so he liked to tell everyone.

 _Your friends need your help._

 _Make your way to Central Park, tonight._

 _Danny will find you._

If that were the strangest thing he'd seen today, he might have thought twice about following the directions. But, as it were...

He didn't know who Danny was, or how he was going to find him in an area as big and vague as Central Park, but if his friends needed him... Plus, while he was there, he could inform whoever left him this note that he's recently undergone a PR revamp and was no longer Beast Boy.

Garfield spared one last glance at the lizard, slowly peaking out from under its hiding spot. He was sure it was staring right at him, but that wasn't so extraordinary. Turning, he caught his own green-tinged reflection in the glass. He pulled his hood down further, sure to hide his face from the sight of anyone who might pass him, and left, walking back in the direction he had come. The direction of Central Park.

* * *

Sprinting around the final corner of the track, Victor Stone was sure this was his best record yet. Might have even been the best for the school.

He didn't slow until he crossed the line, dust blowing up from under his feet, clouding around him. Through it, though, he could hear clapping, and covered his one good eye to make his way through the cloud to the stands. His coach was on his feet, an impressed look on his face.

"That was incredible, kid," he said, lowering his hands to check the time on his stop watch, whistling. "Better than incredible. That was damn near unbelievable." His smile dropped a little, and Vic felt his heart do the same. "But it doesn't change anything."

Vic shook his head, almost smiling at the tragic turn his life had taken. "How can that not change anything? Can you honestly tell me that I'm not the fastest, and the strongest person you've got at this college?"

"Kid, you know you're the best," his coach said, and the honesty in his face _hurt_. "You were before, and you are now. But..." he paused, and Vic could tell he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue. "Your school record was patchy at the best of times, kid. It was nearly enough to have you kicked off your athletics teams. And after the accident, given the... _circumstances_ of your treatment... The board believes you have an unfair advantage over the other students.

Victor was silent for a long time, unable to fully process what his coach had just told him. _Unfair..._ "Unfair advantage?" he said, quiet, shocked. "You think _this_ is an unfair advantage?"

Lifting a metallic hand, Victor ripped back his hood, revealing what human face he had left, the rest of it made up of metal and wires. That was his _treatment_ ; filling in what parts of his body he had lost with metal skin and robotic limbs. The rest of his body followed suit; both of his legs, one arm and the other hand, half of his torso... All lost in that goddamn _accident_.

"People avoid me in the street," Vic said, tears building in his one human eye. "Kids see me, and they run away, screaming. My girlfriend couldn't even _look_ me in whatever face I have left when she told me she couldn't love me anymore. I spend most nights lying awake, wishing my father had left me to die, rather than turn me into the monster that I see in the mirror everyday." Vic shook his head, straightening. "And now you're saying I can't have the _one good thing_ that I had left, because it's _unfair_ to everybody else?"

"If it were my choice, kid, you know I'd have you back in a heartbeat," his coach said, making his way towards him from the bleachers. "I wouldn't think twice about it."

Victor nodded. "But it's not your choice."

"I'm sorry, kid," his coach murmured, laying a hand on his cold, lifeless shoulder for a second. "I did everything I could. They'd already decided."

Victor let him leave. Stood in the middle of the track for what felt like an hour. What else did he have to do, after all, now that everything important to him, everything he _loved_ , was gone? His mother was dead, his father was more of a monster than he was, his girlfriend - _ex-_ girlfriend - wouldn't answer his calls, he hadn't heard off any of his old friends since before the _accident_ , and now he didn't even have his athletics to distract him from the way his life was falling apart.

Even if he had wanted to leave, he wasn't sure he really had anywhere to go.

Finally, Victor felt his legs moving, returning to the bleachers, making their way up the steps to where his bag lay, waiting. He was just going to go back to his old, slightly gross apartment alone. Maybe pick up some takeout on the way there. It's not as though he really had to watch his diet anymore, was it?

As he reached down to pick up his duffle bag, Vic saw a small, white card, placed gently on top. For a moment, he wondered if it was from his coach, maybe a flyer for something, or a contact to get in touch with. But as soon as he saw the name printed underneath the picture of the black bird, he knew it wasn't from his coach. There's no way he could have known that his father had taken to calling him a _Cyborg_ after the incident, after his experiments.

Which means someone else had left it for him.

He turned, did a full 360, scanning as far as his new robotic eye could see - and that was pretty damn far. Nothing. Not a suspicious soul in sight. No one hovering, waiting to see if he'd found the card. No one leaving the area except for his coach and a few drunken students by the dorms about half a mile away. Turning back to the card in hand, he flipped it, curious, and saw the handwritten note on the other side.

 _You are not alone._

 _Make your way to Central Park, tonight._

 _Danny will find you._

Now, Victor wasn't exactly naive of the dangers of the world, or of New York on a Friday night. He had been on both sides of that danger many times. But, c'mon... what was the worst that could happen? Oh yeah, he'd already had that. So, whether this was a trap or an invitation didn't matter. It's not like he had anything better to do.

* * *

Robbie slowed his bike to a stop, pulling up outside a beautiful building, tall and magnificent, set just across from the green escape of Central Park. He pulled off his helmet, sitting still for a moment to contemplate whether to not he really wanted to do this. He was, after all, going in alone, and with no knowledge other than he was _needed_. And that someone called Danny would meet him here.

Where, though, was something he didn't know. Central Park consisted of over 800 acres. This Danny guy wasn't exactly going to just stumble upon him in a space that big.

And, sure, Robbie knew how to defend himself. He'd been doing it pretty well for nearly eight years now. Well... a few incidents excluded. But he'd learned from those mistakes, and he was stronger and smarter and _better_ than he'd even been. But if this was a trap...

He was only human. He could only endure so much. He couldn't heal like Wally did, couldn't run like he could. If this went downhill, if he _was_ walking into some kind of set-up, it wouldn't be easy to get out. If he got out at all.

Was this really something he wanted to do?

"Robbie?" he heard, a familiar voice calling him from behind. He turned, turned his back to the park and whatever decision he was about to make, and was met with a friendly face. He smiled.

"Donna Troy," he said, swinging a leg over his bike and making his way towards her. "Long time no see."

"Not long enough, in my opinion," she responded, her grin betraying her words. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly for a moment, before letting go and taking a step back, her eyes searching. "What are you doing in New York?" Then, concern. "Is Bruce okay?"

"Bruce is fine," he reassured, a hand on her arm. "I've... actually been staying in Brooklyn the last few months."

Donna's eyes narrowed, questioning. "Why?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest. "You have a perfectly good wing to yourself at Wayne Manor."

He nodded, a little uncomfortable. There was a reason he hadn't told Donna he had moved out. He had a feeling he was about to be reminded of it. "Bruce and I... we kinda had a fight."

"Why?" Donna repeated, this time less surprised and sympathetic. "What did you do?"

"Hey," Robbie whined, put out. "I didn't do anything."

"Is it because you dropped out of college?" she accused, hands on her hips now. Robbie just sighed.

"Partially, yes," he decided, shrugging. This was easier than explaining the whole story. And not entirely untrue. "He was angry at me for dropping out, I get that, but it's been a year. He's still picking fights about it." Robbie sighed, ran a hand through his hair. "It's not like I don't earn my keep."

Donna tipped her head, smiling a little. "I don't think it's about earning your keep, Rob," she tried, pulling her coat tighter around her. "He wants the best for you."

"And college isn't that," he said, shrugging again. "Not for me."

"It isn't for everyone," she agreed, rubbing her arms. "I'm sure he'll come to realise that soon enough, and then the two of you can get over yourselves and stop bickering." She smiled, joking. "But it's cold, and I have somewhere to be."

Robbie nodded. "Me too, actually," he said, hiking a thumb over his shoulder. "Just not entirely sure where."

Donna poked her head over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as she took in the entrance to the park. "Central Park?" Robbie nodded. "Why are you going into Central Park at this time of night?" Instead of answering, Robbie reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the card, held it up for her to see. Her eyes widened.

"I woke up and this was on my pillow," he explained, reading it aloud. "It just says to go to Central Park, tonight, and that-"

"Danny will find you," she interrupted, pulling out her own replica of the card. Robbie sighed. "Any idea who Danny is?"

"Nope," he said, shaking his head. "He must be psychic or something to find us in there, though." They were both quiet for a second. "This is a trap, isn't it?"

Donna laughed, bitter. "Someone who won't reveal themselves getting Robin and Wonder Girl together in the middle of the night in a deserted and poorly lit area, without any real rhyme or reason? Oh, it's a trap, alright." She let out a harsh breath, shook her head. "I can't believe I almost fell for that."

"Hey, I did too," he said, trying to comfort her. She took his card from his hand, her head continuing to shake.

"Please," she scoffed, reading his note. "Someone's in trouble, and _I need your help_? There's no way you'd ever leave _that_ call unanswered." She looked back up at him, handing the note back to him. "You're a sucker for someone in distress."

"So what's your excuse, Miss _I never do anything illogical without serious contemplation or actual fear of worldwide catastrophe_?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. She avoided his gaze. "You're bulletproof and you still won't run into gunfire if you can help it. So how did this cry for help get you?"

Donna cleared her throat, holding out her own card. "Because I didn't get a cry for help," she admitted, her eyes staring at something passed his shoulder as he looked over her note.

" _The answers you seek_?" he read, frowning as he looked back up at her. "What does that mean?"

"I was at the apartment building Diana rescued me from when I was a baby," she told him, still avoiding his gaze. "That's where I found it."

Robbie nodded, understanding now. "The answers you seek," he said again. "Your parents."

"Just anything, really," she corrected, shrugging a shoulder elegantly. "It's been about twenty years since that fire; at this point, I'll take whatever answers I can get." She sighed, pouting. "Well, I'm thoroughly disappointed now. You wanna get pizza or something?"

Robbie laughed a little, looking over his shoulder, back to the park. The trees parted over the opening, made way for the path that led into the park. It was right there. And now that he wasn't alone...

"Maybe we should go anyway," he suggested, watching Donna's eyebrows ride up her face.

"You're kidding," she said, like it was absolute. Like any other reality was not an option. "It's obviously a trap."

"So what if it is?" Robbie asked, shrugging. "Now we _know_ it's a trap. We'll be on alert. And we'd be together. I mean, in case you haven't noticed, the park is a pretty open space. If anything happens, you can fly us out of there." She seemed to think about it. Robbie liked that. "Donna... What if it's _not_ a trap?"

She raised an eyebrow. "It's a trap."

"But what if it's not?" he said again, watching her closely, seeing the gears turning in her head. "What if it's _not_?"

For the longest time, Donna was silent, her eyes flicking between Robbie's and the park behind him. He let her think it through, knowing that he could plant the seed in her head, but if he forced the issue, pushed too hard, he'd lose her. She had to come to this decision herself.

"Let's go," she said quickly, spinning and looping her arm through his, pulling him across the street. Robbie couldn't help but smile.

They entered the park, as alone as they had been on the street, walking close together, side by side, both of them on high alert, but neither really sure where they were going, or what to be on the lookout for.

And then they found it.

They were making their way up a dark and narrow path, the only sounds around them that of their breaths and their footsteps. They turned a corner, not even five minutes after they'd started their journey, and stopped, both of them pulling back immediately at the sight. It wasn't a distressing sight. Normally, there would be nothing wrong with coming across a quiet street in the middle of the city, lined with townhouses and stores, street lamps lighting up the otherwise darkened sidewalks. Normally, there would be nothing wrong with that at all. But when that street was placed on what was usually a large, open green... It certainly took them by surprise.

"Has this..." Robbie paused, swallowed. "Has this always been here?"

Donna shook her head, not taking her eyes off the street before them. It looked like any other street. If either one of them had seen it ten minutes ago, they probably wouldn't have even noticed it. But it was so obviously out of place here, surrounded by grass and trees and absolutely no other building... It was almost laughable.

"Do we... I mean, is this where Danny is supposed to find us?" Robbie asked. It wasn't necessarily directed at Donna. He wasn't sure who he was asking, if he's honest. "Is that how they knew he'd find us?"

"I don't know," Donna said quietly, her arm slipping from his as she approached the street, slow and quiet. Robbie followed. "This wasn't here yesterday. I'm sure it wasn't. _I_ was here yesterday. This wasn't." As the reached the beginning of the street, even the colour of the road a stark difference from the gravel path they were on that lay right next to it, she reached out a booted foot, gently nudging her toe against the concrete. When nothing happened, she did it again, firmer this time. Satisfied, she placed the whole foot down, shortly followed by the next. She tapped her heels a little, clicking them against the floor. "It looks like a real street. It _sounds_ like a real street."

"This isn't a 'if it quacks like a duck' moment, Donna," Robbie said, widening his eyes. "Streets don't just get built overnight." He looked around them, at the stone walls of the buildings. It all looked so real... Donna marched to the side of a building, pressed her ear to the wall, knocked it. She shook her head, turned back to him.

"It really does quack like a duck, though Rob," she said, raising her eyebrows in question. "That's a solid wall."

"Okay, I know I've been gone for a while, so I might be out of the loop," a new voice said, pulling their attention further into the street, where their old friend and colleague stood, leaning against the front of a building, a shadowy figure behind him. "Is listening to magic buildings the new norm for New Yorkers?"

"Garfield," Donna said in greeting, not entirely unenthusiastically. Garfield just smiled, the grin spreading across his green cheeks.

"Donna," he called back. "Robbie. How've you both been?"

Robbie approached him first, Donna following behind a little slower. Robbie made a mental note to bring up her manners later. "Not awful," Robbie answered for the both of them. "How about you? When did you get back from your trip?"

"A week or so ago," he responded, walking forward to meet them.

Robbie raised an eyebrow. "Any luck?" he asked him, referring to the less than exciting reason for his travelling. Searching for a missing parent is hardly a vacation.

Garfield smiled, shaking his head, his green hair swishing with the movement. "No, not yet," he said, shrugging a shoulder as though it wasn't important. "If Steve was this good at Hide and Seek when he was a kid, I feel bad for his parents." He looked between the two of them again, expectantly. "Anyways. I heard you need my help."

Robbie frowned, looked back at Donna, who seemed just as confused. "What?" he asked Gar, completely at a loss. He reached into his pocket with a gloved hand, pulled out and handed over a card exactly like Robbie's and Donna's. Well, not exactly, as it turns out.

" _Your friends need your help_ ," Donna read aloud from next to Robbie, still not sure of what was going on. "Need your help with what?"

Garfield shrugged. "Everything I know is on there," he said, nodding to the card in Robbie's hand. "I was kinda hoping you'd be able to fill me in on the rest."

Robbie looked at Donna again, shrugging, before they both handed Garfield their own notes. After reading them, his eyebrows raising as he did, he handed them back, blowing out a breath.

"I'm beginning to think this is a trap."

Donna smiled at Robbie, a silent _I told you so_.

"Three Titans in one place, brought together by an unknown party?" Gar continued, shaking his head. "Doesn't exactly scream _reunion_ to me."

"What about him?" Robbie asked, jerking his chin towards the tall figure in the shadows, peering into the window of what would have looked like a regular gun store, if it weren't for the pink satin, fairy lights and glitter covering the display. The figure in question looked over briefly as Rob spoke, before hiding behind the hood again, turning away from them slightly.

"Oh, the Robot Wars reject?" Gar clarified, smiling to himself as he lead the way over to the person in question. "He got a note too. He won't tell me what his says, though. Just that it said to come here." He slowed as he reached the gun shop and the person who was determined to keep his face out of the light of the street lamps. "However, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say whatever was written on his card was pretty _irresistible_."

Donna raised an eyebrow at Robbie, probably more to do with the dirty undertone Gar had put on that last word than the words themselves. "What makes you say that?" she asked as Robbie smiled.

"Because it's the same with our cards," he said, as though it explained everything. He turned, gestured wildly to the figure beside him. "Guys, this is Borgy. Borgy, this is Robbie and Donna."

The man beside him grunted, turned enough for Robbie to see the other half of his face, the one that shined like steel, with the red light emitting from where his eye should be. Beside him, he felt Donna tense. Quickly, he turned away again. "The name's Victor, actually. And I was just leaving."

Donna stepped forward as Victor moved to leave. "Wait," she said, lifting a hand. Victor stared at it, raising the eyebrow above his human eye. Donna pulled her hand back. "Garfield said you got a note too."

He nodded. "Yeah," he said, his voice gruff. "I think mine was a mistake."

"It wasn't a mistake," she argued. "These notes were personal. Addressed to each of us individually. I found mine in an abandoned building I was exploring. Nobody really could have known I would have been in there tonight, but they did. They left this note for _me_."

"Mine was in a pet store window," Garfield added, turning to Victor. "I'd stopped to see the lizards, because, well..." he gestured to his face, in all its green glory. Victor seemed to relax a little. "Look at me. I'm basically the Lizard King. The bastards love me. But, whatever. The card was in the window of that particular pet store."

"Mine was on my pillow," Robbie joined in. "Right next to me when I woke up."

"They were left for us to find," Donna continued, watching Victor carefully. "They wanted us here. And they got us here using excuses they knew we wouldn't be able to say no to. Answers to questions I've been asking my whole life."

"Someone in trouble," Robbie supplied, Donna smiling in gratitude.

"Hot chicks," Garfield said, smiling. Robbie laughed, ignoring Donna's groan.

"You don't need to tell us what was on your note," Donna continued, trying her best to pretend Garfield was somewhere else. Somewhere far, _far_ away. "But I'll bet it either uses your biggest weakness, or it promises something you really want."

Victor was quiet for a second, eyeing Donna cautiously. Finally, though, he handed over his own note, looking much smaller than the others in his large hands. Donna took it, smiled.

"Both. Mine says I'm not alone," he said for the others to hear, surprising even himself. "I kinda figured that meant there were others like me, people who were... different." He looks at the trio in front of him, shakes his head. "Yeah, you're green," he muttered, gesturing to Garfield. "But you're also an ass. And neither of you two look different to me."

Donna smiled. "Looks can be deceiving," she said, her words only further proven when something whizzed past her, blowing her hair up and around her face, before coming to a stop a few feet behind Victor. They all turned, three of the four not expecting anything other than Wally West grinning at them.

"Am I late?" he said, backtracking enough to join the group.

"You're always late, Wally," Robbie said, dropping a hand on his shoulder as he smiled back at his closest friend. "Despite being one of the fastest men alive. I don't know you how do it."

"It takes a lot of skill and years of practice, let me tell you," he responded, looking around the group. He paused when he got to Victor.

"I thought you were dead set against coming?" Robbie asked him, narrowing his eyes at him. "What changed your mind?"

"Well, I couldn't let you get yourself killed, could I?" Wally responded, barely sparing Robbie a glance, still _obviously_ staring at Victor. It hurt Robbie just watching. "Who're you?"

As Garfield went to 'introduce' the unfamiliar man to Wally, Donna slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Victor," the man introduced himself, holding out a hand and staring more than a little. Wally didn't seem put off, and shook his hand.

"This is Wally," Donna said, quickly jumping away from Garfield a second later and wiping her hand on her coat. "You're _disgusting_ , Gar." The man just smiled and poked out his tongue teasingly, pleased with himself.

Wally looked to Robbie, took a step closer. "We're just telling strangers our real names now?"

Robbie shrugged. "He got the same note that I did, so did Donna and Gar. He's got to be related to all of this somehow." Robbie lowered his voice a little, just so Wally could hear. "Besides, he's obviously not just a bystander."

"I can hear you, y'know," Victor informed then, his face otherwise not moving. Wally snorted.

"I just..." Robbie huffed, ignoring Donna's smirk. "I meant that you're obviously... different. Like you said." Victor just hummed.

"Wait, so you all got notes?" Wally asked, thankfully changing the conversation and looking around the group. "The same note?"

"Pretty much," Donna answered, reading hers over again, as though a new clue would present itself. "All of them said to go to Central Park and that Danny would find us."

"Actually," Gar interrupted, "they say to _make our way_ to Central Park."

Donna narrowed her eyes, confused. "... Is there a difference?"

"Yeah," Gar said, smiling. "I didn't make it to Central Park."

"What does that mean?" Wally asked, taking a step back. "Did you die on your way here? Are you a ghost?"

"If I'd died, do you really think I'd come back as a ghost just to see _you_ guys?" Gar asked, tutting. "As if. I don't know who the lucky lady would be, but I would _definitely_ be peeping on _somebody_."

"Okay, I don't want to sound like a broken record here," Donna cut in, turning to Gar. "But, again, you're _disgusting_."

"I _meant_ ," Gar continued, ignoring the repulsion on Donna's face, "that I was still a full block from the edge of Central Park when I came across this street."

Donna looked back at Robbie, eyeing him as though asking him _is he high?_ "What are you talking about?" Robbie asked him, wondering where the joke was here.

Victor nodded his head. "I'd just left my apartment in Hell's Kitchen," he added, shrugging at Garfield's nod. "Turned a corner, stopped to take a look in that gun shop, and the next thing I know, his green-ass face is getting all up in mine about how my acting career had declined since RoboCop."

"Wait," Robbie said, holding up a hand. "What?"

"I know," Gar agreed, nodding. "Not my finest work, but I was excited, okay?"

"No, hold up," Robbie ordered, taking a deep breath. He turned to Wally. "Where did you find this street?"

"Central Park," he said, eyes flicking between him and Gar.

"Right, okay." Robbie turned to Donna, who looked so utterly lost that he wasn't sure she'd be any help here. "And Donna and I were in Central Park when we found this place."

"Found it in a place that had been just a big patch of grass yesterday," Donna said quietly, staring past all of them, into air. "There's no way this place could have been build overnight, Robbie, you said it yourself."

"So what?" Robbie asked, spreading his arms out on either side of him. "The whole street just up and moved across the city?"

"That's exactly what he did."

Everyone turned to look at the new voice, turned to see a young, black haired girl standing at the top of the stone steps leading up to one of the townhouses. Clad in a long indigo dress and matching cape, she looked exactly as she had in Robbie's dream.

He opened mouth, had to try a few times before any words come out. "You're... You're the girl from my dream."

She nods, her face expressionless. "Thank you all for coming. If you'd like to come inside, I can explain everything."

"Hey, wait, no," Donna said as Robbie took a step towards the new girl. "Why don't you explain everything out here?" she said, pulling Robbie closer to her and lowering her voice. "Where we can fly away if we need to."

Hesitantly, the girl looked towards the skies. "I'd really rather do this inside, if that's alright with you."

"It's not," Donna said shortly. When the girl paused, Donna raised an eyebrow. "Or we can all just leave."

The girl nodded her head once, accepting. "Alright," she said, sighing. "There's a girl upstairs, sleeping. She's alright now, but she's recovering from her turbulent escape from a spaceship where she was being horribly experimented on and her consequential crash to earth, and the race that were holding her captive have sent out search parties to find her. If they do find her, she will be made to return to a life of slavery and torture and other, unspeakable, horrors." She waited a beat, allowed her words to sink in. "If you would rather return home and continue with your lives, that is fine. But if not, if you'd actually like to help this girl, I can explain everything else inside, where the skies are not so open to the prying eyes of alien races." She turned then, having done her work, and made her way inside, disappearing from view.

Robbie cast a glance back to the rest of the group, made his decision, and followed her.

After that, so did everyone else.

* * *

Koriand'r's rest was turbulent.

Images flashed across the insides of her eyelids, her mind replaying her escape as she slept. Her body may have been resting, but her mind could not.

She was dreaming of her escape in the pod, of the otherworldly beings that had chased her, the destructive beams of pure energy that they that fired at her. Every single shot had missed. She didn't think that was an accident. From what she'd seen of these beings in her time of imprisonment on their ship, they were malicious creatures, too bloodthirsty to miss a single shot. Those shots were meant to frighten, to warn, not to kill.

Her Tamaranean body was too precious to them to destroy it.

Then, with a sharp intake of breath, she awoke.

The first thing she became aware of was the pain. So much pain. There wasn't a single inch of her body that didn't ache or throb, at least a little bit. It was, however, slightly muffled by the confusion and unfamiliarity she felt as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness.

She definitely wasn't on the Q'ST'R, she knew that much. She was lying on something soft and warm, her head sinking into a cushion, a sheet pulled over her body. Such luxuries she had not experienced in years, not since she'd been taken from her home. She had definitely escaped, could feel the crash echo through her body as she relived it in her mind. But what little she could remember after that was a total blur. Voices. Darkness. Cold. So where had she ended up? Maybe her captors had found her, had returned her to her prison and were now playing a cruel trick to entertain themselves. Or maybe someone had saved her. Maybe someone had found her, taken her somewhere safe.

Either way, she was going to find out.

She pulled herself up, trying her best to ignore the searing pain in her sides, her head, her arms, swung her legs over the side of bed. It hurt, but she eventually managed to get to her feet, swaying for a second before she straightened. She made her way, slowly, to the open doorway, leading out to an equally dark hallway. She could see, though, a faint light coming from below, seeping up the stairs ahead of her. Distantly, voices. She didn't recognise the voices, or even the language, but she followed the sound, warily descending the steps, careful to remain quiet, covered in the shadows. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the voices got louder, the light brighter, the sense of danger receding as she sees a small group of beings sat together a nearby room. Koriand'r couldn't be sure, but none of them seemed threatening. At least, not yet.

She stepped closer to the room, pausing under the wide archway, her eyes narrowing against the harsh light. One of them, a girl, turned to her. She didn't say a word, her expression did not change, but almost instantly, Koriand'r felt a sense of calm wash over her. She knew she did not have to be afraid anymore. She knew she was safe here. With them.

The girl said something, almost like a greeting. Koriand'r didn't know what she had said, but the nod of her head she recognised. It was a sign of respect that Koriand'r had not seen in years. She couldn't help but smile.

The others in the room turned to look at her at the girl's greeting, each of them looking her over as she did the same. Most of them looked similar to each other, and to the girl. In fact, they looked much like herself. Some of them were darker in skin, some of them paler. The skin of one of them was the colour of her people's eyes. But, regardless, none of them were similar to the Gordonians. For that, she was relieved.

The girl who had greeted her stood, gestured to the chair she had just vacated for Koriand'r to take. She did, grateful. She may have only just woken up, but she was already exhausted, and, despite her body's quick healing rate, she was still aching all over.

She'd have appreciated it more, though, if they'd spoken in a language that she could actually _understand_.

* * *

"Did you just call her _princess_?" Garfield asked from beside Richard. _No_ , Rachel corrected herself. _He goes by Robbie now_.

She nodded. "Her name is Koriand'r, and she's a princess of Tamaran, a planet that lies about 26 light years from this one, in the Vega star system." She looked at the faces before her, half of them outright dazed, the others pretending that they weren't.

"So," Donna said slowly. "She's an _alien_ princess." Rachel nodded, and Donna mirrored the movement. "How did an alien princess end up on Earth?"

"Like I said," Rachel began, standing tall in front of the group, each of them following her every movement closely. They obviously didn't trust her. But that didn't matter yet. "She was imprisoned by Psions for experimentation. I'm not sure how, but she managed to escape. She ended up here."

"And you need our help protecting her from the... Psions, because they're looking for her," Robbie finished, looking between Rachel and the princess sat in the chair beside her.

Again, Rachel nodded. "Even here, Koriand'r is not safe." She tipped her head. "But, I will admit, that is not all I want your help with."

"What's else is there?" Victor asked, suspicion clouding his face.

"That is not important right now," Rachel answered. "Right now, we need to find a way to keep Koriand'r safe and hidden." She moved to the window, took a second to scan the skies. So far, they were safe. "Which is why I have brought you here. Danny can keep us moving. I can't be sure where we'll end up, but if it keeps us safe and out of the Psions sights, I suppose it doesn't matter."

"Wait," Robbie interrupted, raising a hand. "Hold up. What do you want from us here, exactly? Do you want our help protecting her, or do you want us to run away?"

Rachel frowned. "Both," she said simply.

"Both," Robbie repeated, looking a little surprised.

"Both." Rachel looked at each of the heroes in front of her, one at time. She paused when she found Wally. He hadn't said a word since they'd entered the house. He also hadn't taken his eyes off of her. "The best way that we can keep her safe until the danger is passed is to stay hidden. If we can avoid a fight _and_ protect Koriand'r..."

"Listen..." Donna paused, frowning. "Whoever you are."

"Rachel," she interrupted quickly. Donna didn't seem impressed with the help. "You can call me Rachel."

"Cool," Donna said, smiling brightly. Rachel had the feeling it wasn't very sincere. "Listen, _Rachel_. We're not exactly in the business of running away. Usually, when there's someone in danger or a threat looming over someone's head, we stick around and fight the bad guys."

Rachel nodded. "I understand that," she said. Donna sighed. "But this isn't a small group of your 'bad guys'. This isn't even a spaceship full of them. The threat we're facing is a full _fleet_ of space ships, each of them filled with violent, sadistic beings who will stop at nothing to find the experiment that they lost. Their own lives hang in the balance. They will not give up so easily."

Robbie sighed. "So you're asking us to leave our families, our homes, to go on the run for an undetermined amount of time with you and this Danny guy, both of whom are complete strangers to us, so that we can protect a girl we don't know against an alien horde who would literally tear apart this planet looking for her?" Rachel paused. She should have known the conscious of such heroes would get in her way.

"I understand that you're worried about your cities, about the lives of the people who live here." She took a breath. "I don't want to put anyone is danger anymore than you do. But I need each of you alive and well if you're to help me with the other reason I brought you all together."

"Maybe if you told us a little more about it, we could make the decision ourselves," Robbie challenged, raising an eyebrow. Rachel tensed, her jaw tightening.

Releasing a long breath, she nodded. "We don't have time to go into the details, or to explain how I know this. But it involves saving the world, and many others after it. It's bigger than the lives of the people you know, even bigger than the lives of every person on this earth. This is about saving the universe."

Rachel could see each of them thinking it over. Finally, after what felt like an hour, Robbie turned to Donna, the two of them sharing some silent conversation. They turned back to her.

"Well, then," Robbie said, standing. "I guess we'll just have to be extra careful with the Psions."

Rachel sighed, her head dropping. She could, of course, change their minds.

But she had done enough of that tonight.

"Where was the last place you saw them?" Donna asked her, standing beside Robbie and wiping down her jeans.

In that moment, despite every fibre of her being disagreeing, Rachel made a decision. "I can take you there."

They all looked surprised, but only Donna looked put out. Rachel had a feeling she would have trouble with that one.

Robbie turned to Victor, the latter rising from his seat to rise above them all. "We do this sort of stuff all the time, Victor," he started, his tone relaxed. "This is our life, has been for years. You don't need to follow us if you don't want to."

Victor barely considered it, already having made up his mind. He glanced over to Koriand'r, baffled at all the movement. "I know what it's like to be somebody's experiment." He turned back, smiling at Robbie. "Maybe a little vicarious revenge will be good for me."

Robbie nodded, pleased, and turned to Wally. He hadn't even wanted to come here in the first place, and that was when it was just to help him out. Now he was back to saving the world.

"Wally?" he asked, his friend still seated. He'd never looked more torn up. "No one would blame you if you went home."

He was quiet for a long time, eyes boring holes into the floor. Then, without a word, he stood. Nodded. Robbie smiled.

"Why don't I get a choice?" Gar piped up, already heading towards the door.

"Because you up and left for over a year," Donna answered, strolling straight passed him and out the door. "We had to clean up your messes while you were gone. You owe us."

Garfield, Robbie was sure, had an response for that too, but he didn't hear it. As Victor and Wally followed the first two out of the house, Robbie paused, turned back to the princess in the chair, watching them all leave with her brows low. She was confused.

He turned as Rachel approached the girl cautiously. "Are you coming?" he asked Koriand'r. She opened her mouth to respond, closed it quickly. She huffed.

"She doesn't understand English," Rachel explained, watching her. "She hasn't understood a word we've said."

Robbie sighed. "You can't speak her language?"

"Unfortunately, no," Rachel said, shaking her head. "I don't know anyone here who does."

"So, what do we do?" Robbie asked, looking around the house. It wasn't exactly a fortress. "Could we leave her with Danny? Could he keep her safe?"

Rachel tipped her head. "Maybe. But I'd rather she stay where we can see her," she said. She held out a gloved hand, lowered it to Koriand'r. She stared at it for a second, her emerald eyes flicking between Rachel and Robbie. Finally, she placed her own hand in Rachel's, and the latter girl pulled her to her feet, led her towards the door.

"We won't be the only ones able to see her," Robbie reminded her, thinking of the Psions and whatever awful experiments they had planned for this girl. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No," Rachel said immediately, shaking her head. Robbie sighed. "I don't. I don't think any of this is a good idea. But, given the change in circumstances, I'm afraid it's the best I've got." She left then, taking Koriand'r with her.

* * *

Robbie lead the group out into the open space of the United Nations Plaza, half of them having changed into their usual crime-fighting attire. He turned, paused to check in on Donna. She still didn't look pleased with the turn their evening had taken. He sighed, locking eyes with Rachel. He considered her for a second. She was obviously like so many of his friends. He'd never met her before tonight, yet she had somehow appeared in his dream, told him to wake, that she needed his help. That wasn't a coincidence. That was her doing. Had she also built that entire street in Central Park, manoeuvred it throughout the city to collect each of them? Was the street just an illusion, something she had made them see? How had she known where Donna would be, or Garfield? How did she know their alter-egos? Their deepest desires? Their weaknesses? She had to be powerful, Robbie knew that much, but the question of how powerful frightened him.

Worse still, Robbie got the uncanny feeling that she knew everything he was thinking.

He cleared his throat, her face unmoving as she continued to stare, waiting for him to speak. "Is here good?"

Finally, she looked away, observing their surroundings. She nodded. "I found Koriand'r not too far from here. A kind man had found her after her crash and taken her to seek help in an apartment nearby. It was mere seconds after Koriand'r and I left that the Psions had locked onto us. They will likely still be searching for her close to that original location, and to the site of her crash." She scanned the skies as Robbie frowned. "With an area as open and vulnerable as this, they will surely find us very soon."

"What happened to the man?" Robbie asked her, unsure he wanted to know the answer. Rachel turned back to him, her straight face unwavering.

"I do not know," she answered simply. Robbie sighed. That was what he had been afraid of.

"Are we really just going to stand around and wait for them to find us?" Donna asked, turning to Robbie, her arms folded over her Amazonian-inspired suit. "We're out in the open here. I don't like it."

"That's the whole point, Donna," Robbie reminded her as she scoffed lightly and shook her head. "We need to draw them out to fight them. At least this way we've taken away their advantage of the surprise attack."

Garfield laughed. "Yeah, because the fish in those barrels don't mind getting shot if they know you're coming," he quipped, eyes scanning the skies avidly, betraying the casual tone in his voice.

"We're not fish," Robbie responded. Garfield shrugged.

"Most of the time."

"How long do you think it'll take them to find us?" Victor asked, moving around in a full circle. Robbie could only imagine the things he could see with that robotic eye.

Rachel barely moved as she responded. "We won't be waiting long, I can assure you. However..." She trailed off, turning back to Robbie. "There is still time to turn back if you've changed your mind." Robbie was sure the girl didn't blink. Like, at all. "This _is_ a fight we can avoid."

Robbie shook his head. "Just because we can, it doesn't mean we should."

"Very well," Rachel said reluctantly, nodding once. "Then it's time we move to find a little cover. I believe they're on their way."

Donna nearly laughed. "How could you possibly-"

"She's right," Victor cut in quietly, staring off into the night sky as what Robbie would have thought to be unassuming stars began to move, began to grow. It was only a second later that the sound of the ships engines reached his ears. "They're coming."

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, so this is based on the comics _The New Teen Titans_ , published in the 1980s. It's literally been nearly 40 years since this comic first came out, so... It's kinda outdated.**

 **I did, originally, start writing this in a script format, like, forever ago, because I wanted to try something new. It didn't sit well with me though, and I heard that there will be a show out next year about the Titans, and it felt a bit weird to continue writing it like that after knowing that, so I transformed it for my trusty FanFiction, because I didn't want to stop writing it, but also didn't want to continue in that format.**

 **I will be trying to spruce it up a little, bringing it into 2017, adding some more villains, more character nuances and just kind of exploring the main characters, their relationships, their backstories, their frames of mind, more than I feel the comics did, but it will still be following the main storylines. Probably, anyway. We'll see.**

 **I don't know if it's okay to put this on here, since it's not a 'spin off' or an original continuation of another story/publication/show or whatever, but maybe it could be classed as an adaptation? I mean, I've seen stories on here that essentially retell the story of a show but with one extra character, or from a different character's POV, so I guess it's not really too different from that? I don't know, that's why I'm writing this, so whatever your opinion is on the matter, I'd like to know.**

 **I figured it could be a (potentially) cool thing to read if you're into DC films or TV, or you like the Teen Titans cartoons, but also if you don't read a lot of comics, or haven't read these ones. Or maybe even if you have. Who knows.**

 **Let me know what you think, any and all thoughts, suggestions and/or constructive criticism is much appreciated.**

 **Thank you to everyone for reading!**


	2. Starlit Blackness

**A/N:**

 **Nightwing2013: (Love the name, btw) Yeah, I am deliberately changing Dick Grayson's name to Robbie. I don't know many teenagers/young adults who willing call themselves Dick, at least in my life, so I figured, hey, Robin has been a nickname since he was a kid, maybe this young millennial would call himself Robbie. It's not too outlandish a name of him, and I'm too immature to keep saying the word Dick in my writing (lols lols lols). Hope the name change didn't throw people off too much. On the other note, if you're talking about Danny Phantom (which I think you are after a quick google), that's actually not the Danny in this story. Here we have another Danny from the DC comics, who you'll learn more about very soon.**

 **Also, whenever a Psion speaks here, it's in their own language. Just FYI.**

 **I do not own 'The New Teen Titans', or any of its characters.**

* * *

Robbie barely had a second to think.

One moment, Victor was confirming Rachel's suspicious of the oncoming aliens as Donna scoffed, the next, half of a nearby building was being torn down as a ship bigger than the Bat Cave crashed into it. On impact, several hulking green beasts jumped from the space ship, either not noticing or not caring of the jump to the concrete floor below them or the mess they were leaving behind.

Robbie was already sure this wasn't going to end well for them.

As the new figures - reminding Robbie of oversized lizards, with their scaled skin and yellow claws - stampeded towards them, Robbie and his friends sprung into action. Donna, lasso in hand, launched herself into the air, coming down onto a few surprised aliens with a crash, proceeding to knock two flying across the plaza with a few quick punches. Garfield's green tiger form was already tearing into a few of the enemy, taking flight as an eagle moments later when one tried to bring a large hammer down on him, and Wally used his superspeed to dodge the attacks of the Psions surrounding him and make a few powerful ones of his own. Robbie, the only full human of the group, allowed the others to take the brunt of the alien forces, knowing they could each handle their own. His years of training with Bruce and fighting crime in Gotham meant that he could take quite a beating and walk away from it, but these aliens, and their fists, looked like they could easily flatten him against the sidewalk with one hit, so he stayed back to keep an eye firmly on Koriand'r and the aliens trying to flank their group in order to get to her.

He found out pretty quickly, though, that she, too, was more than capable of looking after herself, even with the injuries she was still recovering from. She was fast, much stronger than her tall but slim frame would have you believe, and, as Robbie saw when an impatient Psion jumped ahead of the others and tried to take her on himself, she could fly.

Victor was also holding his own against the oncoming horde. Robbie had guessed his mechanical limbs would be quite the opponents in a fist fight, but he wasn't expecting the attachments that came with it, allowing him to fire blasts of light that knocked the aliens off their clawed feet.

Rachel, however, seemed to be deliberately avoiding a confrontation. As one of the Psion rushed her, rather than crouch down, prepare to fight, run forward to meet it... or really do anything that would suggest she was ready for the fight, she simply stood, exactly as she was, unwavering. Then, at the very last second, she disappeared. It took the alien a moment, but after it skidded to a stop, kicking up dust and asphalt around them, it turned, searching for its target. Then she would reappear, several feet away, as though nothing had happened. Robbie thought for a moment that it was a trick, a tactic to confuse and frustrate the alien, leading it to lash out and giving her the upper hand. But time and time again, with every green being that ran at her, swinging whips and hammers and long metallic poles, she wouldn't fight them. She would simply disappear.

It caught Robbie so off guard that if it weren't for the growing shadow around him, he might have missed the beast approaching him from behind.

Robbie dropped to the ground, rolled to the side just as a crash sounded next to him, the concrete where he had just stood smashed apart by a heavy, scaly tail. He looked up, looked into the dark, soulless eyes that met his. When the Psion grinned, it was to show razor sharp teeth and a thirst for blood that Robbie knew wouldn't be easily quenched.

Still in his crouched position, he reached, slowly, to the floor, keeping his eyes solely on the monster as it got closer, closer, close enough that as Robbie threw his hand into the air, releasing the gravel in his hand into the air, it blinded the green beast. It was only for a moment, but that moment was long enough for Robbie to launch his grappling hook, catching it on a nearby street light and whizzing away from the dangerous claws that lashed out as the creature growled, pained. Robbie swung wide around the street light, coming back on himself like a boomerang and, throwing his legs out in front of him, crashed into the back of the same alien, sending him flying across the plaza and landing on the floor with a solid thud.

Victor smiled as another alien approached him, swaying back and forth on his legs, waiting for the reckless swing to come his way. His body and its toys were out of juice, but he was by no means out of nerve. He was starting to think that maybe he enjoyed this. He didn't know whether it was kicking alien butt or helping out people in need that did it for him, but _something_ sure did.

As he suspected, and as his mechanical eye picked up on before any human one would, the alien swung his arm out to swat at him, like someone might a fly. If it had made contact, Victor might have been out for the count. But the move was angry, ill-timed and slow. Victor made it out of the way of the large talons with time to spare, and came back with a swift elbow to the back of the short, thick neck while the alien was still swinging at the empty air.

Yeah, he was knew to this 'hero' stuff. But if this fight was anything to go by, Victor was pretty sure he'd be damned good at it.

That was until another alien approached him, bigger than the last, meatier, and swinging a long metal pole. For a moment, Victor was only _slightly_ worried about the weapon he was brandishing. It was just a pole, right? He could handle a pole. But as the alien swung it like a bat, Victor saw the sparks emerging, hear the cackle of electricity as it neared him.

That couldn't be good.

As soon as the metal of the pole even came close to the metal of his new skin, he could feel every inch of his body seize up, could feel the shock coursing through him. He cried out, falling to the floor in agony and clenching up into a ball. He could hear the heavy footsteps of the alien coming towards him, probably to finish him off, even as he felt his palms grow warm. He looked up, saw the alien reach back, the pole still in hand, ready to swing again, its face twisted into something that might have been a smile. Victor was pretty sure the smile was still there as he reached out his hands, barely taking a second to charge up, before he released the beams of pure white noise from them, vibrating through the air and hitting the alien with such a force that it flew through the air, landing too far away for Victor to care. Instead, he snagged the metal pole from the air, testing the weight in his hands. He smiled.

Yeah, he was going to do just fine at this.

As Victor began to use the alien's weapon against his comrades, Rachel materialised in the plaza long enough to watch a lone Psion make its way to Koriand'r, the princess too distracted from her current fight to notice the new threat behind her. Rachel sighed. She had hoped this wouldn't be necessary.

Disappearing again for a mere second, Rachel appeared beside Koriand'r, who beats her foe into the concrete floor and spins, her attention now on Rachel and the approaching beast ahead of them, a long metal chain swinging from its hands.

Rachel stepped forward, ignoring Koriand'r's outstretched hand, a bid to stop her.

"I do not wish to fight you," Rachel said, just loud enough for the Psion to hear. Loud enough for a few of the earthlings to hear too, apparently, as Donna, Garfield and Victor all turned to watch the confrontation. Rachel didn't need to see their faces to feel their disbelief. And more than a little disdain from _one_ of them. "This is not the outcome I wanted. But I cannot let you take her."

Despite a language barrier that Rachel was sure was present, the Psion seemed to understand her. It grinned, basking in the violence of whatever it was imagining, and leaped forward, it's chain swinging threateningly, cracking at the floor by her feet.

Across the plaza, Victor saw the Psion approaching the alien princess and the other new girl quickly, others around them eager to join. He looked around him, caught the eye of the green one. After a nod from each of them, they both began to run towards the danger. Koriand'r, in Victor's opinion, had been through enough. She shouldn't have to endure anymore.

Neither of them got far, though, before the noticed a slight tug, pulling them backwards. They paused, turned, saw another Psion behind them, almost cackling, as he swung his own whip so quickly that it was barely even visible. Instead, what was visible was the utter blackness coming from within the circle the speeding whip had created, drawing anything around it closer, closer.

"Oh, that can't be good," Victor heard Garfield whine from beside him, as they both struggled to keep their footing as they continued to be drawn closer to the Psion and its void-whip.

Rachel lifted her chin, took a deep breath, and felt the princess step up beside her. She nodded, a wordless gesture of solidarity, before launching herself into the air, a battlecry echoing from her chest, as Rachel crouches down, lowers herself, raises her hands as she feels the walls in her mind crumbling, her power finally breaking through.

Then, just as Koriand'r is mere feet from the Psion, as Rachel lifts her head, her eyes darkening, the whips cracks down on them, striking both and catapulting them backwards until they land in a heap on the floor, both breathless and wounded, both too pained to move. The Psion hovered over them both, and as he reached down, hoisted the princess up and over his shoulder and turned away, all Rachel could do was watch, eyes drifting closed.

"We're done for!" Garfield squawked, wings flapping manically as he tried to clear both himself and the metal man clinging at his claws of the tug of the wormhole. It was no use. He could feel the pull getting stronger, feel them both slipping further into it. And if that wasn't terrible enough, the void seemed to be getting smaller the closer they got to it. At this rate, it'd suck them all up and slam shut behind them, leaving them without a hope in the world.

Only a second later, Garfield's wings gave way, crumpling under the strain of the blackhole, and he fell towards it, cawing. His fall stopped short, though, as Victor grabbed hold of a claw, his own metallic hand grasping tightly to a crack in the concrete of the plaza floor.

"Oh, Borgy," Garfield cried, claw returning to foot as he transformed back to his usual, green self. "I knew you loved me really."

Victor groaned. "You better hope someone else loves you more," he said, his fingers already beginning to slip from the concrete. "'Cause I can't hold on forever, and I _will_ let you go before I let us _both_ die."

Garfield pouted. "How sweet."

Wally, moving too fast to feel the full effects of the wormhole, called out to Donna. She couldn't see him, but as she and Robbie finished off another Psion, their numbers seemingly dwindling, she could see the danger Garfield and Victor were in. She turned to her oldest friend, raised an eyebrow. He nodded, loosening his grappling hook from his belt once again.

"That better hold," she warned, grumbling. As she lashed out her lasso, Wally pausing in his speed just long enough to grab hold of the other end, Robbie wrapped the wire around a street light, anchoring himself down, reaching out for Donna's spare hand as Wally pried Victor's from the concrete.

The five of them were linked, and for a moment, Garfield and Victor were safe. Then, as the void began to shrink even further around them, the pull somehow got stronger. Wally strained to keep his feet on the ground, Donna felt the lasso tighten as Robbie's grip weakened. They both knew that lasso would never break. But that could only mean that if Donna's hand slipped from Robbie's, she would be dragged into that void with the rest of them.

Robbie pulled back, wrapping an arm around the street light and straining, his muscles screaming as he pulled, desperate to pull Donna and the others away from the wormhole. If they slipped through, there'd be no getting them back, and they all knew it. But even as his grips and his determination grew stronger, he could feel his body weakening, could _hear_ the metal of the light groaning. Any second now, it would cave, snapping under the building pull of this void, and they would all be lost.

Robbie managed to spare one last glance at Donna, her own face shadowed with the realisation of what was happening, as the pole of the street light groaned once more, squeaking and sparking as it fell, snapping like a twig under foot. The blackhole sucked them in in a second.

Or, at least, it nearly did. For just as the blackness swallowed them up, Robbie felt a pinch at his shoulder, and suddenly they were being dragged from the emptiness and back into New York, each of them being flung far from the wormhole as it shrank, slamming shut a second later with a thunderous clap that hurt Robbie's ears more than the hard ground hurt his back.

He jumped back to his feet, searching for their saving grace, only to find a large, shadowy bird hovering over Rachel, disappearing like smoke as it receded into her chest. The girl took a deep breath, her eyes shooting open as Robbie approached, the others following closely behind. Wally crouched behind her, helped her to sit up as she groaned.

"What..." Robbie trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to ask. What answers he really wanted to hear. "Was that you?"

Rachel's answer was cut off, though, by Victor, spinning slowly in a full circle and stopping to rest on the girl on the floor.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice hesitant. "Where's Koriand'r?"

Rachel's pause gave away the answer before she said it aloud. "She's gone, Victor. They took her."

* * *

By some miracle, Grant and Carol made it out of her apartment alive. He wasn't sure the same could be said for many of the other residents.

Coughing, Grant dragged Carol down the last few stairs, tumbling through the shattered glass doors and out onto the street. He turned to her, his hands on either side of her dusty face, eyes searching. "Are you alright?" he asked her.

She didn't answer, her gaze sliding off to land somewhere behind him. As her eyes darted back to his, he realised the surprise there. Spinning, Grant's hands curled.

He recognised the girl in an instant. Her cloak, her hood, her sickening aura. Grant could sense it was her. The same girl that had simply appeared in the apartment mere hours ago, then disappeared with the injured girl. In that moment, Grant saw red.

"You," he growled, pointing an accusing finger at the cloaked girl. "This is all _you_ _r_ fault, isn't it?"

Carol laid a hand on his arm, gentle. "Grant," he heard her murmur from behind him. "Calm down."

"They could have killed us, Carol," he pointed out, gesturing back to the remains of the building, the other occupants piling out behind them. "God knows they've probably killed some of the neighbours."

"We didn't do this," a deeper voice piped up. Grant turned again, back to the culprits. A man, a few years younger than Grant, probably, stood beside the familiar girl, decked out in something that looked familiar to full-on body armour. Grant was sure he'd seen this kid on the news once or twice, fighting crime in nearby Gotham. "We were trying to _stop_ the aliens that did this."

"Oh, _aliens_ ," Grant said, nodding his head sarcastically. "Are these the same aliens that came crashing into our apartment around the same time that you broke in?" Grant asked the girl, her face hidden. "You know they could have killed us, right? You and your little friend got to safety, but you just left us to fend for ourselves!"

"I told you to leave," the girl said, void of any emotion. "I warned you."

"You left us," Grant corrected, his anger hardening his voice even to his own ears. "You saved your own asses and left us to die." Grant shook his head, looking around the other figures. "Where is your friend, anyway?" he asked, not seeing the golden girl within the group. "Have you abandoned her now, too?"

"Grant," Carol tried again, squeezing his forearm.

"The Psions took her," the girl said, as though he should know what that meant.

"What?" he said, not even really caring anymore.

"The aliens that destroyed the building," the armour-clad guy said, taking a step forward. Grant felt his hands clench. "They took her. They were after her, that's why they're here."

Grant's nostrils flared, his fingernails digging into his palms. "Those things were after the girl I brought here?" The guy nodded, his expression turning to one of surprise as Grant laughed. "So this _is_ your fault. They were after your friend. _You_ brought them here, _you_ ruined this building, _you_ killed however many people aren't going to make it out of there... This is all your fault."

"Grant." Carol's voice hardened. So did her grip. "That's enough."

"We were trying to stop this from happening," the same guy said again, walking closer again.

"Don't come anywhere near me," Grant warned, pointing a finger at him. "You might not have done this with your own two hands, but you might as well have. _You_ brought those things here."

"And _you_ brought that girl here," Carol cut in, before Grant could move in on him. "I told you you should have taken her to the hospital, but you insisted. If you had done what I said, _this_ wouldn't have happened," she said, gesturing to her smoking home. "If she was never here, those things wouldn't have been either."

Grant scoffed. "This isn't my fault," he argued, frowning. How could she think that? How could she think _he_ would risk her life like that?

"It's as much yours as it is their's," she tried, eyes widening. "It's just pure bad luck that you were the one to find her, that you brought her here. Neither of us could have known that it would have resulted in this. I don't blame you, but I don't blame them either."

"You might not," Grant bit out, angry now at her too, for even _thinking_ that he would ever put her in harms way. "But I certainly do." He span around once more, ready to turn back on the group who were responsible for the devastation behind them, for the wreckage that was one their home, only to find empty space. He growled.

"Grant," Carol pleaded, making her way around him, to face him. "Please."

He shrugged off her hands, took a few steps back. Before his rising anger could get the better of him, he turned, stalked back towards their old home, to the residents piling out. There were still people inside, people who needed help. And he would help them. He would save who he could. And those he couldn't, he would avenge.

* * *

When the Princess had first escaped from their ship, Captain Weezak of the Chrga had been sure he was done for. He had almost prepared himself for the inevitable. But when the Commander's men had come, it wasn't him that they had taken away. They had only come for one life; the life of their Captain. And on his demise, Weezak had become the new captain, the fear of facing his predecessor's fate driving him to find their missing experiment. And find her, he did.

The Captain, towering over his staff as they rushed around him, gazed up at his success for a moment longer, floating in their energy-dampener, unconscious and completely helpless.

He could finally breathe.

Spinning, Weezak marched away, intent on reporting his success to his senior. He couldn't wait for his prize for fixing his past Captain's mistake. The communication room doors slid open with a hiss, allowing him access, and he waited until they closed behind him before pressing a button on the control panel in front of him, the screen on the wall lighting up. Commander Trogaar's face appeared, rugged and far from happy.

"What?" he barked, obviously busy with something below him, out of Weezak's view.

"We have found her, Commander," Weezak responded, pleased, some resemblance of a smile on his face. "The Princess, we have her on the Chrga, in the energy-dampener."

The commander scoffed. "You think this pleases me?" Weezak's smile faded. "She should never have escaped at all. Your previous Captain's mistake has cost us more than you could know." The Commander grunted, straightened for a moment. "Make sure his mistake is one that you do not repeat."

Weezak swallowed, nodded. "Of course, Commander," he managed to say over the squealing he could hear through the communicator. "I understand that we lost out of a chance to sell the girl at a good price. I won't let it-"

"A good price?" The Commander snapped, his voice, his face, hardening. "We could have sold that girl for an entire planet's ransom! Do you understand that?" he asked, the disgust evident in his tone. "Can your tiny mind comprehend just how much we lost because of your captain's screw up?"

"I'm sorry, Commander," Weezak said quickly, shaking his head. "You're right, of course. I understand completely."

The Commander nodded once, as though it was the end of the conversation. Weezak relaxed. "Then the credits we missed out on will be coming out of your salary."

As Weezak stammered, tried to please his case, Commander Trogaar straightened, bringing the agonised face of Weezak's old Captain into full view. The hand around the Psions head, gloved in one of the Commander's newest inventions, tightened. Weezak immediately quietened.

"Do we have a problem, Weezak?" the Commander asked him, quietly. As Weezak watched in silent horror, the Commander continued to tighten his grip on the previous Captain's head. Smoke started erupting from under his palm, the skin underneath his hand melting, and Weezak's old companion began to scream.

"No, Commander," Weezak responded, his voice cracking as the terrified screams suddenly died out. "No problem."

"Good," Commander Trogaar said sharply, dropping the now lifeless body onto the floor with a thud. Weezak winced. "Ready your ship. We'll be leaving soon."

The Commander cut the line, and all Weezak could do was stare at his own reflection in the dark screen, thankful, at least, that his _own_ scales were still intact.

* * *

Two Psions, covered head to claw in thick armour, stood guard outside the entrance to the central sections of the ship. Only the highest clearance got access to this section, as it housed the Captain's quarters, the ship's mainframe, and, most importantly, their precious cargo. It was an important job, one to be proud of, even if it could be a little tedious sometimes. It wasn't very often that they got to see any real action, never allowed to leave their post during their shift, even to join the fight that had just waged in the city below them.

They had won, and that was they important part. Even if they didn't get to join in on the fun.

Suddenly, one of the Psions shivered. It was a strange sensation. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt cold like this; it felt almost as though it was coming from inside his own bones.

He turned to his comrade, his breath forming in mists around them.

"Is it me, or did it just get really-"

Before he could even finish the question, a whirring catches his attention, coming from up ahead. There, at the end of the hallway, a tall humanoid creature stood, half of his skin shining like steel.

The Psion barely had a moment to fully take in the strange creature, or the strange light emitting from what should have been his hand, before he and his partner were launched into the sky, and hit the wall with such force that darkness enveloped them both.

Victor raised his blaster to his mouth, blew on the smoke billowing from it, before he transformed it back to his metallic hand. Garfield whistled.

"Do you have an attachment for everything, Borgy?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as he ogles Victor's hand.

Victor glared. "I won't need an attachment to throttle you, Greenie," he warned, marching down the corridor. He had thought another blast of energy would be necessary to get through the several inches of alien metal and technology that made up the security doors, but the first blast that had taken out the aliens had hit them, and their surroundings, with such force that it had left a sizeable dent in between the doors, a sliver of light peeking through from the other side. He stopped, placing his hands in the gap, and pulled.

Victor was a strong guy. He always had been. And since his father had ruined his life and made him into this monstrosity, he had become even stronger. Unbelievably strong. He pulled the sliding doors apart, with the help of that little hole, without too much strain. Leaning against one door, propping his hand against the other to keep the apart, he looked back over his shoulder. As he did, his heart sunk.

He knew he was different, even from these people. He wasn't a fool. But all night, this group that had been brought together had been surprising him. Even at a glance, one was green, one gold, one so pale she was almost grey. Even the others, who looked so perfectly _normal_ on the outside, had their secrets. Things that made them different. He had started to feel as though maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he'd thought. That maybe he could fit in here, with them. It was a strange thought, a strange feeling, but one he was becoming more and more attached to in the hours he had spent with them.

That was, of course, until he looked over his shoulder to see them all staring, eyes wide and mouths agape.

Now _that_ was a look he was used to.

"Well, are we doing this or not?" he snapped, harsh, suddenly very conscious of how little effort he was putting in to holding these huge, heavy security doors open. "Because I have _much_ better things I could be doing with my Friday night."

They blinked, Robbie stepping forward, finally done with gawking, and ducked under Victor's arm, through the doorway, the others slowly piling through behind him. Finally, the only one left was the green one. Victor huffed.

"What?" he said shortly, barely restraining his eye-roll.

Garfield just quirked a smile, not at all put off from Victor's tone. "I think you're going to be useful around here, Borgy," he said, limbo-ing under the mechanical arm. And that... Well, Victor supposed that could have been a lot worse.

"Don't call me Borgy, Greenie."

* * *

After what felt like miles of cold, alien hallways, led by the helpful wall signs along the way, Rachel came to a dead stop at the end of a long stretch of corridor. Robbie, on a mission, almost barrelled into the back of her.

"Why are we stopping?" he asked, pointing in the same direction as the sign on the wall before them. "The main deck is this way. You said they'd be keeping her somewhere there, close to the big guy, where he can see her."

"They are," she said quietly, no doubt in her mind. She knew these aliens wouldn't keep her anywhere else. They'd want her front and centre, to both keep an eye on her, and to revel in their success. But as sure as she was that the Princess was there, somewhere through the doors to their left, she still paused.

For a second, no one else spoke. Then, of course, Donna did. "Then what's the problem?" she asked, her impatience showing in her voice. "We came here to get her. So let's _go_ _get her_."

Rachel nodded, still gazing at the words in front of her. "The rest of you go," she decided, nodding again. "Find the princess and get off the ship as soon as you do. Victor," she said then, before he could leave. "You come with me. I need your abilities for something else."

Victor, looking slowly around the rest of the group and their unsure faces, made a few steps towards her. "Um," he murmured. "Okay."

"Of course," Donna laughed, shaking her head as she backed away to the other door, the one that would lead them to their new friend. "Running away from another fight."

Victor saw the slightest squaring of Rachel's shoulders, barely even visible. Barely. But he noticed.

"I'm trying to _stop_ any more fights after this one," Rachel corrected, not looking up from under her hood. "Forgive me for planning ahead."

Before Donna could get another jab in, Rachel spun on her heel and marched off, Victor following suit after a hasty, if not slightly awkward, wave goodbye.

Donna rolled her eyes, neglecting, for a moment, the usual poise and elegance her mother had raised her with in favour of her annoyance with the newcomer. As she, too, span to continue on to her destination, she caught Robbie's raised eyebrow.

"I don't want to hear it, Rob," she said shortly. They didn't exactly have the time for that kind of talk right now, anyway.

Robbie, nothing if not determined, matched her pace, his parental eyebrow still firmly in place.

"She didn't have to bring us all together, Donna," he chided, not slowing. Donna took a deep breath. "She's trying to save this girl's life, and from what she said earlier, countless others, too."

Donna tried not to scoff often; it wasn't becoming of her. But, in that moment, she couldn't help it. "Yeah, but given her actions tonight, I'm not sure she'd be able to save _anyone_ without us all here. Or did no one else notice that she didn't lay a finger on a single alien tonight?"

Robbie was quiet for a second. "I noticed."

"So what?" Wally cut in, quick on their heels. "She wanted to avoid that fight, get away from them. We _knew_ she didn't want to fight them." Pushing past them both, he stopped short, stopping the others in their paths too. "And, in case you're forgetting, she pulled us _all_ out of that blackhole. We'd be dead right now if it weren't for her."

"We wouldn't have even _been there_ if it weren't for her!" Donna hissed, trying not to raise her voice, given their surroundings. She didn't want to alert any hostile aliens to their exact location, now, did she? "She brought us together to do her dirty work. Have us play the pawns while she gets whatever it is she wants from us."

"What she _wants_ is to save the world," Wally interjected before Donna could continue, taking a step closer. "Several worlds. The Universe. That's why she wants us all here, _alive._ She's not avoiding fights for the hell of it, she wants _all of us_ to avoid them, so we're not all dead when it comes to this other plan she was talking about."

"Talking about?" Donna couldn't help but laugh. "What exactly was she talking about, Wally? Because all I heard was her sidestepping any questions we had and being super vague about this other plan of hers." Donna shook her head, pushing past Wally with her shoulder. "Excuse me if I'm not exactly trusting of this _mysterious_ person with this _mysterious_ plan, neither of which we know anything about."

Donna marched off, Garfield hesitating for a second. He and Robbie shared a quick nod, the kind of silent communication that can only be made after years of friendship, and he took off after Donna. He'd rather be with a pretty woman than with those two losers, anyway.

Wally, hands on his hips, took a few breaths. Robbie waited, quiet.

"Rob," Wally tried, falling silent again for a moment before continuing. "Listen, I know we don't know this girl..."

"At all," Robbie continued, folding his arms over his chest. "And you didn't want any part of this in the first place. And now, what? You're all in? You're on this stranger's side over one of your oldest friends'?"

Wally shrugged. He wasn't even sure himself.

"She's just trying to save lives, Rob, you said it yourself." Wally swallowed, unsure. He couldn't help but feel like there was more to it than that.

"Yeah, I know," Rob agreed, nodding. "And, I mean, I can't know for sure, but I think she has good intentions here. But Donna was right, this girl didn't fight a single alien tonight. Not one." Rob thought back to that couple earlier tonight, at the plaza. The man had had a few choice words for her himself. "That guy earlier. He said she'd known they were coming, she said _herself_ that she'd warned them about the aliens. But she left them there. Rather than stay, fight them off, protect those people." Rob trailed off, gave Wally a chance to fully absorb his next words. "She knew they were coming, Wally. She knew, and she took what she wanted and ran."

A door slammed somewhere behind them, followed by the sound of muffled talking. He wasn't sure what language it was in, but it was definitely talking of some kind, and it was definitely alien.

"We don't have time for this right now," Rob said quietly, resting a hand on Wally's shoulder. He looked confused, almost betrayed. Robbie didn't fully understand why; they'd only met this girl a couple of hours ago. But they'd have to figure it out later, when they, and the Princess they were here for, were safe. "We need to go."

For a second, even as Robbie took off down the hall, Wally remained still. Something about that girl... He couldn't explain it. Could barely understand it himself. But he just _knew_ she didn't want to cause any of them harm. She wasn't a bad person, she couldn't be. She just didn't want to fight. And was that really so bad? Was it really that far from what Wally himself had wanted, had used as his reasoning for not joining Robbie on his midnight stroll through Central Park only hours earlier, before his guilt had gotten the better of him? He didn't want to battle with aliens either. And that was okay. That didn't make him a bad person. So why did everyone think Rachel _was_ bad for wanting the same thing? Why couldn't they see her like he did?

A hard tug on his arm brought him back to the present, back to Robbie's anxious face.

"What the hell are you doing?" Robbie asked, concern mixing in now as his eyes darted around them. "Are you trying to get caught?"

Wally shook his head, trying to clear it of the daze that had started forming. When he thought of Rachel, everything else seemed to cloud over.

"Sorry," Wally said quickly, before he could fall into that pit again. "Let's go." He pulled his arm free of his old friend, marched off in the same direction the others had, leaving Robbie behind to stare at his retreating figure.

Robbie simply shook his head. _What the_ hell _was going on with everyone tonight?_

* * *

Victor shook his head as he took in the circular computer before him. It was wider than even he was, and reached from the floor all the way to the high ceiling. And he had thought computers were getting _smaller_.

"This is clearly some high-end, alien tech," he said, blowing out a breath as his head continued to bounce back and forth. "I don't know if I can work with this." As the doubt began to settle in his mind, Rachel took a few steps closer, resting a hand on his metal shoulder.

"Victor," she began, ignoring his huff. "Just concentrate; this is important. Think of Koriand'r." Rachel had not missed the swell of emotion from this man earlier in the evening, as he had learnt about the horrors the Princess had faced. Maybe she could use that to her advantage. "We may be able to get her away from the Psions for now, but they _will_ come back. They would never leave without her, never leave her be. She is too valuable to them." Rachel dropped her hand, stepped towards the whirring mainframe that took up most of the spherical room they stood in. "We need to stop them from coming back." She turned again, barely peeking out from under her hood as she looked up at him. "We need to make sure she is safe."

Victor wasn't sure what is was. It might have been her soft, deep voice. It might have been how her words emanated from the faceless shadow that hid under her hood. It might have been the words themselves, and what they implied of Koriand'r's fate if he failed. Whatever it was, Victor suddenly felt very, _very_ cold.

"Okay," he breathed, cracking the mechanics in his neck and rolling his shoulders. "Let's see what damage I can do."

* * *

As Robbie and Wally approached the doors to the main deck, the former slowed to a stop, pulling on Wally's arm as he did. Wally turned, eyebrows up.

"What?" he asked, eager to just get this done already. He wanted to go _home_.

"What if they're not in there?" Robbie wondered aloud, gesturing to the door with his head. "It's not like Donna to jump into a fight without us. I mean..." Robbie trailed off. "Not after we'd _already_ fought them, and lost."

Wally nodded, hands on hips. He was right.

"Donna's smarter than that," he agreed, blowing out a long, unsure breath just as a loud crash from beyond the doors snapped both of their attention back to what lay before them. Robbie groaned.

"Donna's smarter than that," Robbie said at Wally's concerned frown. "Garfield's not."

Robbie rushed through the doors, hissing open as he got close to reveal the carnage on the main deck. Despite the time and the place, Wally couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Garfield, a large, bright green gorilla, screamed and swung high above the Psions, narrowly missing all of the shots from their alien weapons, and drawing most of their attention away from Donna, smacking at a control panel below a large tank, filled with a strange orange liquid and their newest friend. Koriand'r.

And, approaching, the biggest alien Wally had seen yet.

Robbie, forever quick on his feet, grappled up towards the ceiling, flying towards Donna, grabbing her around the torso on the way and swinging them both high seconds before a green, scaly fist, bigger than Robbie's head, could come crashing down on them.

"Thanks," Donna said, a little breathless as Robbie landed them both high on the towers of equipment around the room. Garfield sent a toothy grin their way, quickly morphing into a fanged one as he shifted into a long, thick snake, dropping down onto the unsuspecting alien below them, constricting around its neck. She shook her hair out of her eyes, straightened her shoulders. "But I had that."

Robbie just hummed, doubtful.

"Reckon you can figure out how to get her out of there?" Donna asked him, eyeing the crowd below, picking out her next target. "It's all very confusing. And it's not like there's a manual for the control panel anywhere." Robbie turned to Donna, slowly. "What?" she tried, self-conscious. "It was worth a look, okay? They might not be as smart as we think they are."

"They have whips that create vortexes out of thin air," Robbie reminded her, his face not changing despite his amusement. He would bring this back up later, at a more appropriate time. "I don't think they need a manual for their own ship."

Donna huffed. "Then it's all on you, buddy."

"Got my back?" Robbie asked, not even really needing to hear her answer as he scoped out the environment below. Wally and Garfield were keeping most of the aliens busy, he was sure Donna could do the rest. At least for a while. He looked up, saw Donna's quick smile.

"Always," she stated, their usual response. Without another word, she dropped gracefully from the tower, landing on the shoulders of a Psion with such force that he was crushed into the ground, the floor around him cracking.

Robbie followed suit, a little slower, but with no less grace, using the tall computers, poles and towers to make his way down. Robbie couldn't stick a superhero landing like Donna, not without sending his leg bones through his kneecaps, but his acrobatic training meant he could tumble and free run with the best of them.

Donna was right, though. The control panel was a mess, at least by Robbie's human eyes. There were plenty of buttons, levers, switches, to try, and even one big, red button, placed directly in the centre, but Robbie knew better than to trust it. Sure, it might be a kill-switch for the machine that held Koriand'r captive, but it could also be a kill-switch for the Princess herself.

Or, worse, the whole ship.

Glancing around him, Robbie saw with relief that the others were entertaining the aliens, keeping them as far away from him as they could. He had a bit of time to figure something out. Hopefully, that would be enough.

Wires and tubes ran from Koriand'r's prison to the control panel. Maybe they were keeping her unconscious, unable to escape or fight back. Maybe they were keeping her alive, running air through to the mask she wore, submerged in the thick liquid. Maybe it was both. There was no real way for Robbie to know. Ripping them from the base of the container could be risky. But any button on the control panel could result in her immediate death, for all he knew, and the mostly transparent material that made up the huge tube was thick. Given the weight of the liquid and the Princess inside, the pressure it was sure to put on the container, they way the material ever so slightly clouded his view of Koriand'r, Robbie figured that while it was alien, and there was no real way for him to know, it was more akin to plastic than glass. It wouldn't shatter on impact.

But maybe, just maybe, it could crack.

Robbie took a chance. It was all he could think to do. Time was running out, the Psions were getting angrier and more dangerous by the second as his friends fought around him, and he was sure one would break free from the others any second, would head straight for him. It was now or never.

He dived under the control panel, where the wires joined the two components together. Gathering them all together in one hand, the two wider tubes together in the other, and tightening his grip, he braced his feet against the base on the container. Was he sure he wanted to do this? There was no guarantee it would work. This might kill her. One of those tubes was most definitely her air supply. Once that was gone, she's be submerged in a tank full of water until he could get her out. _If_ he could get her out.

Robbie took a deep breath.

With all his might, he pulled back in one swift, jolting move. They all broke free, a few sparking dangerously, and he jumped back to his feet. As he pulled his trusty grappling hook from his belt, he saw the bright green eyes of the Princess shoot open, saw her face change from confusion, to shock, to fear, all in an instant.

"I'm going to get you out," he shouted, trying to get her attention as she stripped the mask from her face, trying to keep her from panicking, hyperventilating. Submerged in an unknown liquid, the last thing she needed right now was a panic attack. But try as he might, she wouldn't listen. She couldn't understand him, Robbie remembered, recalling the lost look in her eyes as they had all discussed this very fight not so long ago. She couldn't understand his words, no matter how loud he said them, no matter how he tried to phrase it. Robbie began to panic too, then. If he didn't get her out _now_ , she could drown in there.

He spun the hook in his hand, set his sights on the top on the tube, held upright only by three metallic, claw-like fixtures. He could reach that. It wouldn't take too much weight to snap it, break it from the tube altogether. That would unbalance the whole container, topple it. Probably.

His eyes flicked back to the Princess for a second, hoping that maybe he could try again to calm her, to show her, since he couldn't tell her, that he would help, that he was trying to get her out of there. But she was still now, fixated not on her escape, but on a hulking shadow that grew bigger as the threat loomed closer behind Robbie. He let out a quick breath, span, and was met with a scaled, oversized torso. A low laugh sounded from above his head. Robbie could see it rumble in the beast's chest. Looking up, Robbie saw the beast quirk his lizard head to the side, almost smile at him. That was until a new, strange whining came from behind him. The beast's head quirked upright, alert, and then suddenly panicked. As the Psion threw himself backwards, away from the sound, Robbie followed suit, but in the other direction, landing at the base of Koriand'r's container as the noise grew in volume, in pitch. Crawling under the control panel desk, Robbie covered his ears, calling for his comrades to get down, to take cover.

He didn't get the chance to see if they had followed his advice. Suddenly, everything went quiet, and Robbie squeezed his eyes shut, tucking his head between his knees a second before the whole world around him seemed to shatter with a _shkreek_ so high pitched, it was almost inaudible. Seconds later, once the debris had settled, and with his ears still ringing, Robbie darted out from under the desk.

The whole room was a mess.

Not a single light had survived whatever kind of explosion that had been, and neither had most of the computers. Wires hung from the walls, the ceilings, furniture had been flung in every direction. Wires sparked, ceiling panels swung. It was as though a blast had come from _inside_ the container, like a ball of energy starting from that point had hit everything, and everyone, around it. The only reason Robbie had made it through with only a burst eardrum, from what he could tell, and a few scratches from flying debris was because he had been so close. He, and the tank's immediate surroundings, seemed mostly untouched. The same couldn't be said for everything else.

Robbie turned, and there, in amongst the shard-like remains of Koriand'r's container, was the princess herself, covered in the same thick, orange goo. Robbie couldn't help but notice the way her hands glowed, almost nuclear, dimming as her eyes began to drift shut.

"Hey," Robbie said softly, dropping to his knees beside her, holding her head in his gloved hands, wiping away what remaining substance he could. He knew she couldn't understand his words, but he hoped she would understand the gesture, the tone of voice. Anything to know that she was safe now. "I've got you." She didn't nod, didn't respond, but as he lifted her up into his arms, held her close to his chest, she tucked her head into his neck, clung to the shirt of his disguise. That was enough for Robbie.

As the green beasts around his began to grumble, began to pull themselves to their feet, Robbie called to his friends.

"Report!" he shouted over the sparking and creaking remains of the main deck, anxious of the Psions struggling to pick themselves up from the floor all around him.

A slim, tanned arm lifted from a pile of scaled bodies in the corner, Donna soon following it, groaning. "I'm good."

"Same here," Wally said crawling out from under a chunk of ceiling that had fallen from above. "Well," he said, correcting himself as he stood. "I don't know if I'd say I'm _good_ , but I'm alive." He shrugged, then immediately winced, turning his head to find the guilty shard of plastic sticking out from his shoulder.

"Gar," Robbie called, searching the piles of bodies for any movement. His panic began to grow. The only bodies moving were the enemies. "Gar! Report!"

Donna turned to Robbie, concern on her face. "Maybe he got out," she suggested, the worry in her voice betraying her words.

Robbie spun, praying for any sign of Garfield's presence. At this point, he'd even be grateful for a bad pun.

"Okay," a deep, rumbling voice said from the corner, as a Psion three times the size of Victor rose from the heap of bodies of his kind around him. "I know I said earlier that I was the Lizard King, but this is just another level."

It took Robbie a moment, but... "Gar?" he asked, unsure, even as the Psion ungracefully pounded over to him, tripping over his own feet, as though they were too big for him.

"'Sup," the Psion said in return, flexing his alien muscles. "How do I look?"

Wally laughed. Donna couldn't help but join in. "Remarkably accurate," she said, looking around the other Psion bodies around them. She was right. Usually, in an alternate form, Gar usually looked a little off. He was, after all, eternally green. But with this one... He could fit right in.

Robbie shook his head, laughing. "We should go," he suggested, already making his way through the destroyed doorway. "Before Gar decides to change sides."

* * *

The lights seemed to be out throughout the whole ship, save for flashing emergency ones, barely lighting their way back to where they had last seen Victor and Rachel. They hadn't met with any resistance yet, but there was alien shouting coming from just about every direction, and getting louder by the second. They rounded a corner, each of them silently praying that the duo would be there, already waiting for them, but to no avail.

"We should leave," Donna said, already headed towards the blasted doorway further down the hall.

"Without them?" Robbie asked, surprised, not moving from his spot, even as the voices around them grew louder.

"We can't just leave them," Wally interjected, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop. "If the aliens find them, there's a good chance they'll both die up here."

"I highly doubt _she'll_ die," Donna argued, ripping her arm from Wally's grasp. "She'll probably just _poof_ on out of here like she's been doing all night." As Wally opened his mouth, his face twisting with a sort of anger that Robbie hadn't seen in a long time, Donna just shook her head, backtracked. "That doesn't matter, anyway. For all we know, they're already on the ground."

"They wouldn't have left us here," Wally disagreed, folding his arms over his chest stubbornly. Robbie could tell he wouldn't be easily swayed. And this was the worst possible time for that.

"Wally," Donna tried, running a hand through her hair, the dust and rubble stark against her black hair. "We don't know them. Either of them. They're virtually strangers, to all of us, and to each other." The shouting was almost defeating now, constant and close by. They didn't have long left, and they all knew it.

Robbie stepped forward, passed Donna, towards the open doorway. "We came here to get Koriand'r. We've got her. Rachel said to leave as soon as we did." He turned back to Wally, continuing to move backwards. They didn't have time to stop now. "Don't you think, wherever they are, that Victor and Rachel would want us to get her off this ship?"

Wally hesitated.

Robbie grimaced.

"We'll come back," he promised, already regretting it. From Donna's wince, she probably regretted it for him, too. "You and me. If they're not on the ground, once Koriand'r is safe, and far away from here, we'll come back." Wally dropped his arms, swallowed. "Okay?"

It took him a second, a long second, the voices around them inching closer and closer, Robbie's heart rate rising with the echoing footsteps. But, finally, Wally nodded.

"Where's Gar?"

Donna's question had Robbie's heart sinking. He spun, quickly, too quickly, and saw no green beast in sight. Any other time, that would be a wonderful thing. But right now, Robbie felt sick.

Robbie gestured for Donna, who rushed to his side. "Take her," he said shortly, handing over the princess in his arms. "Get her as far away from here as you can."

"Rob," she said quietly, worried. "You can't fly out of here." Robbie nodded. He didn't need reminding.

"Exactly," he replied, hands on her shoulders as he guided her down the hallway. "I can't fly myself or Koriand'r out of here. You can." He let go, let her turn back to him for a brief second. "We'll find the others. Gar, at the very least, is still here somewhere." Hopefully. "He can get me down."

Donna paused for a second, looked down at the unconscious girl in her arms. Finally, she nodded, taking a few steps back. "Be careful," she said, pleaded, before turning and sprinting down the hallway and out of sight.

* * *

"You're sure?" Rachel asked again. Victor huffed.

"You expected us all to trust you, right?" he said, sparing her a glance over his shoulder as they left the large computer room. "To just trust this complete stranger and follow you into battle?"

"Actually, I wanted to leave the city and hide somewhere until the threat dispersed," Rachel corrected, only marginally intimidated when Victor stopped dead in his tracks to glower at her. "But yes. I did ask a lot of you all, and it required you to trust me, even though you knew nothing of me."

Victor nodded, continued on his march. "Then trust that I did what you asked me to, and stop asking so many questions."

Rachel wasn't sure she'd ever get used to the variety of attitudes here on earth. She was beginning to miss home. "Alright."

"So, where are the others, d'you think?" Victor asked, obviously trying to move the conversation along. "Do you think they've found her yet?"

"I'm not sure," Rachel responded, trying to feel them, feel _something_ that would answer Victor's question. "But there are bodies everywhere. I think the Psion threat are close." A thud sounded close by, another following shortly after. Another, closer. "Very close."

A door up ahead opened with a hiss, some smoke and dust billowing through the opening, followed by a shadow, so tall its head almost grazed the ceiling. Victor crouched, fists curling beside him. As the smoke cleared, the beast stepping towards them, Rachel was sure she heard Victor growl.

"Oh, hey Borgy," the giant Psion said, waving a clawed hand. "You guys missed out on all the fun." At Victor's dumbstruck gape, Rachel's wary quirk of the head, Garfield nodded. "Oh, yeah, and I'm an alien now. Suits me, don't you think?"

"I'm thinking a lot of things right now," Victor said quietly, shaking his head slowly as he took in everything before him. Rachel, shaking her head clear, grabbed his arm, pulled him closer to Garfield.

"Did you find her?" she asked him hurriedly, continuing on passed him, assuming they would both follow. They did. "Did you find the princess?"

Garfield nodded. "Mhmm. And then when we couldn't find you, Mommy and Daddy started fighting about whether or not to leave without you, and I ran away."

Rachel sighed. She had known Donna didn't like her, that much was evident. And after her _talk_ with Wally, there would, of course, be some residual effects. That much was to be expected. But she didn't think of what that could do to the group. They had been friends for years, and now she was creating tension between them. Her plan wouldn't work if they were not a team. This could spell trouble.

Footsteps close by drew the trio to a complete stop. Garfield took a step to move ahead of the group, take the brunt of whatever force was coming, but Rachel held up a hand, stopping him. Reaching out, she could feel... worry... panic... a hint of fear. Above all, though, she could feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

"Robin."

Quickly, she rushed forwards, her two companions following her quickly, turned a corner, and almost ran headlong into the man in question. He reached out, steadied her with a hand on either arm. He breathed a sigh a relief, Wally avoiding her eye behind his friend.

"We didn't know where you were," he said, nodding at the cyborg behind her. Then a change, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. "And you know better than to run off like that. We were worried."

Garfield kicked a clawed foot against the ground, ducking his head. "Sorry, Dad."

"We need to get out of here," Victor cut in quickly, mechanical eye whirring as he looked all around them. "They're everywhere. And we don't have a lot of time."

Robbie nodded, looking back the way they'd come. "I don't think they were far behind us, but there's an outside wall just back there, you can see Central Park through the window." He turned back to Victor, nodded his head. "Do you have enough energy to blast us an escape route?"

Victor smiled shyly at Rachel, shrugged a nonchalant shoulder. "I think I can manage it."

* * *

Too much time had passed, and still no sign of any of them. Donna was beginning to consider getting back up there.

And she _hated_ that.

For now, she paced.

Koriand'r was still sleeping, resting on the grass behind her. Donna had figured the Park would be the best place to land, shielded with trees and surrounded with potential escape routes, and open enough to fly straight back out if they needed to. But the longer she stood here, _waiting_ , the more anxious she got. How long did they really have? The Psions had been closing in on them when she'd left, and that had to have been at least ten minutes ago, probably more. And what did she do if, god forbid, they didn't make it out? Where would she take the princess? Maybe the Justice League would take her in, she was sure her mother would help, but then what? There was still the entire spaceship full of aliens high above their heads.

Suddenly, a rumbling from the sky drew Donna's attention away from her dwindling thoughts. She looked up, saw the spaceship, hovering in the same space, when, suddenly, the whole thing erupted in a ball of fire. The resulting shockwave hit even Donna, the trees around her rustling as the ground shook below them. But that wave was nothing compared to the realisation that hit her seconds later.

Her friends were on that ship. Her oldest and closest friends. Her family. And now the ship, and everyone in it, was gone.

For a moment, she wasn't sure how to react. The ringing in the ears was no longer from the boom of the explosion, her eardrums already having healed for the second time that night, but from the shock of what she had just witnessed, had just come to realise. But aside from that ringing, the spinning in her head, she didn't really feel anything.

A weight on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie, brought her crashing down to earth like whatever was left of that ship. She spun, arm out, locking her own hand around the one on her body and twisting, pulling it up behind the back of whoever had laid a hand on her. At the sharp curse, the familiar uniform, Donna dropped the hand, taking a step back, a sharp breath.

"Jeez, Robbie," Garfield called from behind him, stepping out from the shadows and brushing off the leaves on his suit. Robbie rolled his eyes as he massaged his shoulder. "Don't you know better than to run around groping women in Central Park in the middle of the night?" He scoffed. "Even I know better than that."

Donna, too overcome with relief to make a comment on Garfield's gross way with women, flung herself at Robbie, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tight. He squeezed.

"Sorry," he said quietly into her hair. "I didn't mean to scare you." She shook her head, shook off his apology. She was just happy to see him in one piece. "Didn't you hear us calling you?"

Donna laughed, the sound only kind of wet. "I couldn't really hear anything for a minute there." She pulled back, pretended she wasn't wiping at the tear on her cheek. Robbie smiled.

"Yeah," he said, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially. "That was quite a _boom_ , huh?" Donna smiled back, laughed a little.

"Very impressive," she murmured, sniffing.

"You can thank Victor for that," Robbie said, moving enough to bring the other four back into view. Everyone was here, everyone was safe. She was even happy to see Garfield, not that she'd ever admit that out loud. Rachel... She could take it or leave it. And least it wouldn't cause another argument with Wally.

"Thank you, Victor," Donna said, dropping a hand on his arm, smiling brightly as she passed him and headed for Wally. "You blew out my eardrums." She hugged Wally, the two of them forgetting all about their feud earlier. It didn't matter now.

Victor smiled, gazing up at his handiwork. "Yeah, I did pretty good," he said quietly, nodding. "But, I mean, I can't take all the credit. It _was_ Rachel's idea to figure out a way to keep them from coming back."

Donna wanted to respond to that, she really did. But as Wally looked down at her, eyes pleading, she kept her mouth shut. Instead, she sought out Rachel in the crowd, caught her eye, and gave her half a nod of her head. A sort of _good job, I guess._ Rachel nodded back. Donna smiled back at Wally.

"See?" she murmured. "I can be amicable."

Wally shook his head. " _Amicable_ isn't what I'd call that, but at least you tried."

"What now?" Robbie asked, sat beside Koriand'r in the grass, still unconscious. If that blast hadn't woken her, he wasn't sure anything would tonight.

Rachel stepped forward, closer to the sleeping princess. "I will take Princess Koriand'r back to the house. We will remain where you found us last for the night, but after that, we will have to keep moving."

Robbie raised his eyebrows, looked at the others. "Didn't you want us to come with you?" he asked, confused. "Wasn't that the whole point of this? To get us together, to fight some bigger evil?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes, it was. And I called on each of you, because I need all of you. All of your unique abilities. But..." she paused, turned to look at Donna. "I understand that there are some... reservations within the group."

"Primarily with you," Donna was all too happy to add, despite a hard nudge from Wally's nearby elbow.

Despite the rude interruption, Rachel simply nodded, and continued. "So, if any of you want to back out, feel free to go. You have helped me save the princess, which, in turn, will help me with my bigger quest." She turned to Donna again. "You've done your part. I won't ask any more of you." Crouching, she reached out for Koriand'r, swept the hair from her face. The princess needed rest, warmth. "I won't ask any more of any of you. Take the time to make the decision yourselves. Should you decide you would still like to help me, or that you would like to know more, you know where we will be until sunrise. If not, you won't hear from me again."

Robbie opened his mouth to respond, but wasn't sure what he should say. As he looked at each of the group in turn, they all looked as torn as he did. They still didn't know anything about this girl, or what this _quest_ of hers was. But when have they ever turned down a cry for help?

A heavy breeze blew by them, chilling Robbie right to the bone, then as he turned back to Rachel and Koriand'r, he found nothing but grass and empty space.

They were all silent for a second.

"Mmm," Garfield finally whined. "That's super creepy."

Donna sighed. "Well, that goodbye was a lot less awkward than I thought it was going to be," she said, hands on her hips. She turned to Rob. "I still really want that pizza. Who's in?"

Silence met her offer. Victor avoided her eye, and Wally simply shook his head, already walking towards the last place they have seen that street. She tried again.

"My treat?"

Still, no one responded, and her shoulders slumped.

"I think we should at least hear her out," Robbie said, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched Wally walk away. He could have run, could have been at that street in a heartbeat. Instead, he walked. He was waiting for them to join him. "We don't have to commit to anything."

"Yeah, unless she kidnaps us," Donna muttered, sour. Robbie raised an eyebrow. Donna growled. "Fine, we will _discuss_ it. But I'm getting pizza along the way," she told him, pointing a finger at him to further drive her disappointment home. Robbie simply smiled, got up, and followed Wally.

* * *

Watching from the main deck of his own ship, further from the earth's atmosphere, Commander Trogaar tapped his claws against the arms of his seat, the remains of the Chrga slowly dispersing. Hundreds of his soldiers, gone, all in an instant.

He was not happy.

"Commander," one of his underlings stammers, unsure of what to do next. "The Chrga..."

"I'm aware," he said shortly. Not only had he lost an entire ship of disposable Psions, meaning he would now have to recruit more, but they had also lost the princess. Whatever was left of her after that blast wouldn't fetch them even a handful of credits. He supposed it could be worse. At least he would save himself some money on the salaries of the dead soldiers.

A moment of silence. "Sir?" the same Psion said, quieter this time. "What would you like us to do? Should we exterminate the human race for interfering?"

The Commander considered this for a while, before shaking his reptilian head. "Inform the Tribunal, they can do it themselves. We have other slaves to sell." As the Psion nodded, turned to his panel to send the communications, Trogaar leant back in his chair, turned to another minion. "Set course for Kordo-4, and get us there quickly. We have a lot of lost time to make up for."

* * *

Rachel awoke in the armchair with a start, unsure of what, exactly, had caused such a sudden departure from her less than peaceful sleep.

Then, a laugh from what someone might _loosely_ call a kitchen. At first, she stilled, cautious. She had been here, alone, for weeks. Who was laughing in her kitchen?

Then she remembered. Koriand'r had stayed here, slept in one of the dark, otherwise empty rooms upstairs. Though what the alien princess found so funny in that kitchen, Rachel wasn't sure. Either way, she got to her feet, leaving the blanket that had been placed over her in her sleep in the chair, and made her way through the old, dusty townhouse, towards the kitchen. At the long wooden table sat Koriand'r, blanket around her shoulders, smiling. She looked happy, if not a little bewildered. As Rachel continued in further, she could see why.

Stood around the kitchen, each of them looking rather uncomfortable, were the rest of the group she had assembled.

As Koriand'r caught sight of Rachel, nodded at her in greeting, the others turned to her.

"Morning," Robbie said, smiling slightly, glancing out the window to the world outside, still dark. "Almost. We were beginning to think you'd never wake up. We haven't exactly been quiet."

Rachel smiled, taking a seat on the bench beside Koriand'r. The girl smiled. "It's been a long few weeks for me," she half-explained, settling in and taking in the group before her. "I think I needed the rest." Everyone was quiet for a moment, looking awkward between one another. "I will be honest with you," she started, suddenly uncomfortable. "I didn't think any of you would be back."

Robbie looked amongst his friends, moved to take a seat on the other side of the Princess. "Neither did we," he admitted. He looked almost guilty. Rachel appreciated that. "But after a long stroll through the park, and _plenty_ of pizza, we decided we at least wanted to give you a chance to explain everything."

Rachel nodded. That was a start.

"So," he continued, gesturing to his friends. "Explain everything."

Rachel nodded, ready to begin, before being distracted by Koriand'r's deep frown.

She heard Robbie's deep sigh. "I suppose you can't explain the situation to only most of us," he thought aloud, sinking back against the wall behind them. "It's not fair to make any group decisions when one of the group doesn't have a clue wha's going on."

Koriand'r turned to each of them, one at a time, noted the tension between the group as a whole. She tried to say something, tried to communicate, but they clearly didn't understand her. All she got were blank stares, a low whistle from the green one. She considered her options for her moment, turned to the handsome man beside her. She studied him, his face. He seemed nice. And he had been gentle with her on that ship. After a second, he looked away, smiled. He asked her some sort of question, one she didn't understand. She smiled back. She should at least make him comfortable first.

With a hand on either side of his face, and taking a deep breath, Koriand'r leant forward and placed her lips gently on his.

When she pulls away only a second later, the man before her swallowed, his eyes wide.

"Sorry," she said, a small smile on her face as she ignored the swell of nausea in her stomach. "Physical contact allows me to better understand your language." She turned at a giggle across the table, saw the dark haired warrior woman holding a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her grin. Turning back to the man beside her, Koriand'r realised that, maybe, this wasn't a common practise here. "The more intimate, the quicker it worked, the more I can understand. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." The man shook his head, clearing his throat. "I would have asked first, but... I couldn't," she trailed off, biting her lip.

"It's alright," the man said, waving it off. "Really, it's fine. Don't worry about it."

"So, you learnt a whole language with a kiss?" the green one asked her, drawing most of her attention away from her neighbour. Koriand'r nodded. He grinned. "I knew I liked you."

"Alright, Gar," the warrior woman said, shaking her head at the one who went by 'Gar'. "Calm down before you embarrass yourself." She turned back to the woman on her other side, smaller than she, paler. "Why don't you give us the basics? We can figure everything else out after that."

"I appreciate you giving me an opportunity to explain everything," Rachel said quietly. Donna nodded.

Rachel swallowed, tried to avoid the heavy gazes on her.

"There is an evil coming," she started, figuring it was probably wise to get straight to the point. "A demon, who destroys worlds, universes, on a whim. His name his Trigon, and he is coming here."

A moment of silence followed, broken by Donna's suspicious tone.

"Trigon?" she repeated, levelling Rachel with a doubtful state. "Never heard of him. If he's such a huge threat, why have I never heard of him?"

Robbie cleared this throat, raising an eyebrow once Donna looked his way. She shrugged a shoulder

"What?"

"She asks good questions, Richard," Rachel defended, sitting a little straighter. "And given everything I have asked if you, you're entitled to want to know the truth."

Robbie quirked his head. "Sure, but a little less attitude wouldn't go amiss."

Donna rolled her eyes.

"Usually, if a planet's inhabitants have heard the name Trigon, it's already too late. No one I know of has lived to tell the tale of his... achievements."

"So how do you know of him?" Wally asked, tone gentle. Much more so than Donna's.

"I have seen it in a vision," she stated, not untruthfully. Though, also not completely honest. "He will come, and he will destroy this entire universe, unless he is stopped."

Robbie eyed Donna, his jaw tightening for a second. "Why us?" he questioned, leaning forward in his seat. "Yeah, most of us have a history of fighting crime, and we've dabbled in occasionally helping to save a city." Robbie shrugged. "But that's not what you need for this."

"What you need is the Justice League," Donna suggested, agreeing with her old friend. "They have more experience than us, they're stronger than us. They can help you."

"They cannot," Rachel argued, shaking her head. "Or, better yet, they will not." Rachel took a deep breath, looked Donna dead in the eye. "I have already asked the Justice League for help. They refused me."

Most of the group looked confused. Donna, on the other hand, withdrew. Rachel could tell that piece of information only fed Donna's suspicions of her.

"Why would they do that?" Wally asked, turning to Robbie, who was equally baffled. "You needed help, why would the turn you away?"

Donna's eyes narrowed, cutting in before Rachel could attempt to explain. "They don't trust you," she stated simply. It wasn't a question. Rachel shook her head.

"My abilities are... different, from what they have seen before. Unknown. Zatanna, the witch, sensed something in me that she did not trust." Rachel sighed. This had been the part of the conversation she had been dreading. "She warned the other against helping me, and they heeded those warnings. I was sent away." Rachel, slowly, brought her eyes back to theirs. They looked almost as untrusting as their older counterparts. "I thought you might be more accepting."

Donna scoffed. "We aren't."

Rachel barrelled on. "I understand that, knowing this, you may too be wary of trusting me, of helping me." She bit the inside of her lip, trying to smother the self doubt in her chest. "I can only hope that you try to look past this information. Not for me, but for the universe, and all the lives it holds."

The room fell into silence for the longest time. Rachel began to feel herself slipping into despair. She did not know who else she could turn to. Even her own mother had refused to help her. If the people before her followed suit, she would be left to fight Trigon alone. And she knew that could only make things worse.

A loud, heavy sigh came from across the table.

"I'm in," Victor said, speaking up for the first time that morning. At Rachel's shocked expression, he shrugged a shoulder. "I don't really have a lot else going on right now. So why not?"

Garfield lit up. "Well if Borgy's in, you can sign me up too." Victor immediately looked less interested.

"Can I unsign up?"

"I'm in," Wally said, surprising almost everyone at the table. A quick glance at Robbie had him immediately feeling self conscious. "What?"

"I thought you wanted out of the superhero life?"

Wally shrugged a shoulder. "Does anyone ever really get out of this life?"

Robbie, still doubtful, turned to Donna. She seemed equally wary.

"I would like to join this fight, too," Koriand'r said, smiling at Rachel. "You aided me when I was most in need. I would like to respond in kind."

Robbie and Donna stayed quiet, even as the others grew impatient, watching them eye each other for what felt like hours. A silent conversation, held between the closest of friends and allies. Not even Garfield and Wally could fully translate, though they could just about follow along. Mostly. Whatever they were arguing about, it seemed like Robbie was winning.

Finally, after a loud, adolescent huff from Donna, who simply sat back and sulked, Robbie smiled. They turned back to the group.

"We're all in," Robbie stated, ignoring Donna's heavy eye roll. "Where do we start?"

* * *

Masked and armed, he stood, surrounded.

"You are the one they call Deathstroke," one of the hooded men high in the shadows asked him. No, stated. It wasn't a question.

"You know I am," he responded, eyeing them all warily. "That's why you summoned me, isn't it? You know who I am, and what I do." He was met with silence. He smiled. "And I know who you are, H.I.V.E." More silence. "Or, at least, another one of H.I.V.E's minions." Hushed whispering, now. His smile grew. "So why don't we forget the pleasantries and cut to the chase?" He looked round the room, sizing up the men. Seven, in total, easily shorter, thinner, than he. But the balcony they were perched on, several feet above his own head, meant they had the overall advantage, even over his obvious physical one. Or so he would let them believe. "Who do you want me to kill?"

The man directly ahead of him, seemingly the leader of this little group, spoke. "We want you to destroy the Titans."

Deathstroke frowned. How out of touch were these people? "The Teen Titans disbanded years ago."

"You are correct," the same man said again, nodding. "But a new team of superhumans have come together under a similar guise. We want you to exterminate them, before they can cause us any trouble."

Deathstroke nodded. This was not a new request for him. Something he had done many times before. "I'm in. I believe you know my terms; I do this my way, I work alone, and I take payment in advance." He smiled, turned, ready to leave, happy with how this had turned out.

"We will pay you once the job is done."

Deathstroke paused, sighed. He turned back, shaking his head. "That's not how I do things. I take payment up front, or I don't take the contract. It's up to you."

"And that is not how _we_ do things," the man said, soon followed by a slow hiss behind him. Over his shoulder, Deathstroke could see the door behind him, the only entrance or exit, closing. He laughed. "Either you accept our contract, on our terms... Or you die."

He nodded, smiling. "Please," he said, opening his arms wide. "You're welcome to try. I haven't had a workout today, anyway."

The walls below the balcony slid open, bringing the huge machine guns into the light. Deathstroke grimaced.

"Of course."

* * *

The seven cloaked figures watched from another room, far, far from the one on their screens, monitoring and measuring as Deathstroke jumped and flipped and twisted, avoiding the hundreds of bullets being launched his way. It was definitely impressive.

They saw as he launched himself high, high enough to reach the balcony they had set up. He raised his sword high above his head, brought it back down as he landed, slashing through the hologram figure. At first, he paused. Looked around himself, at the figures all around him, shimmering as he broke through the first. He laughed.

"Well, you didn't get your damned contract, did you?" he said, spinning and shouting at the ceiling. He jumped down from the balcony with ease, made his way to the smoking doors, split in two with the force of each bullet that had missed him. "Looks like the joke's on you."

The cloaked figure at the front, face half hidden in shadow, smiled.

"We got it all," another figure says from behind, eyes roaming over another screen.

"Good," the first man said, leaning back in his chair. "Soon, we won't have a need for his man. We will have our own Deathstroke. One who will belong to us, mind, body and soul."


	3. Body and Soul

**A/N: If you can, once you've read the chapter, or whatever you feel like reading, please leave a review so I know what you're thinking, what you're enjoying, what you're not. Even if you only make it through two paragraphs, any comment helps! Thank you!**

 **I do not own 'The New Teen Titans', or any of its characters.**

* * *

Grant felt like he had been sitting in that office for hours. He had begun to get restless, his knee jerking relentlessly, his fingers tapping against the arm of his chair. Finally, _finally_ , after what could have been years, the door behind him opened.

"Mr Wilson," the doctor said, meandering in with a large manilla file in hand, taking a seat across the desk from Grant. "How are you feeling today?"

"Good," Grant answered, nodding. No need to tell the doctor about the growing stress and anxiety he was feeling after the incident with those supposed superheroes. It would only slow down the process. "Eager to start."

The doctor smiled. "That's wonderful to hear, so are we." The doctor looked over his notes, nodding. Grant assumed he was happy with what he saw. "I see all the preliminary tests have been done, everything seems to have gone well."

Grant nodded, trying to get a peek at his notes on the other side of the wide desk. "That's good, right? That means we can start?"

The doctor smiled. "Soon, yes," the doctor said, drawing a sigh from Grant. He was getting impatient, the doctor noted. Good. "We will check you in today, do some observations first. We want to make sure this goes well, and that means taking our time, doing everything carefully, and making sure you're safe."

Grant nodded, knee jerking again.

"We will start soon," the doctor promised, smiling. "We'll make you into everything you wish you could be."

"I just want to be stronger," Grant said, rubbing his hands together, nervous. He needed to be stronger. For himself. For Carol.

"Oh, Mr Wilson," the doctor said, leaning forward. "You'll be stronger than you can imagine. And so much more."

* * *

Donna sat at the dusty kitchen table, perched so close to the edge of the seat that she was surprised she hadn't fallen off it yet. She tapped her fingernails against the takeaway Starbucks coffee in her hand, waiting. Usually, she was a patient woman. Today, however, she didn't want to be in this place any longer than absolutely necessary. Certainly not if she didn't get some more company, pronto.

Eventually, Donna heard the front door open, close a second later. Robbie strolled in, shrugging off his jacket as he smiled at her.

"How long have you been here?" he asked her, making his way over to the kitchen counter, checking the coffee machine. Still hot. He reached up, took a mug from one of the shelves.

"Not too long," she answered, watching him quietly, her eyes narrowed. "Maybe ten minutes. Are you really going to drink that coffee?"

He frowned at her, laughed. "Yeah?" he said, unsure of why she was asking. He took the carafe from its cradle, poured the steaming drink into the mug. It looked good. Smelled good. Why shouldn't he drink it? "It's early. I want coffee."

Donna hummed, bringing her own store-bought coffee to her mouth as a cold breeze blew by them. Wally suddenly appeared next to Robbie, another mug in hand, holding it out for Robbie to fill. The latter shook his head. Donna's nose crinkled.

"Are you sure you want that coffee?" Donna tried again, looking pointedly around the room. Robbie laughed again.

"Donna," he started, putting his coffee aside to focus on her. "It's coffee. Rachel said Danny had stocked up a couple of days ago. It's not like the coffee has been sitting around gathering dust like the rest of the house."

Donna lent back in her seat, immediately regretted it. "No," she said simply, holding her coffee close to her chest, warming her in the chilly house. Donna didn't feel the cold easily, and if she needed warming, she could only imagine how Robbie was doing. "But how old do you think the coffee machine is?" she asked, taking a sip. "Or those mugs."

Wally, mug halfway to his lips, looked down, watched the liquid swirl in the mug warily.

Donna shrugged a shoulder graceful, almost smiling as she watched the old friends in front of her. "Drink it if you want. Just don't blame me if you contract hepatitis."

Slowly, begrudgingly, Wally put his mug back on the counter, Robbie nodding in agreement beside him.

* * *

Koriand'r, desperate, tried to rip the solid metal collar from her throat. It didn't matter to her that she was almost choking, that she was probably adding to the bruises already on her body.

All she wanted was to be free.

She struggled to her feet, hoping it may give her more leverage over the chains. If she could pull on it with all of her weight, tiny though she may be now, maybe, just maybe, it could work. And it might have, had she been able to stand for longer than a few seconds before collapsing in a heap on the cold, dirty floor. She had no strength left in her. After being kept here, in the dark, barely given anything to eat or drink, subjected to the horrors she had faced daily... It was a wonder she was still alive. She knew, though, that she couldn't hold on much longer. There was no chance of a rescue for her. No one was coming to save her. The day that she didn't wake up was approaching, and fast.

Koriand'r longed for that day.

The familiar sound of the creaking, clanging door opening had Koriand'r scurrying for the corner of the room, her prison. Nobody came to see her for anything other than a beating, or worse. That sound was something to fear.

A woman walked in, tall and striking, looking down on Koriand'r is disgust.

"Koriand'r," she said, her voice softer and kinder than her face. The two didn't match at all. Even as the woman stalked over to the princess, two armoured beasts following, sickening smiles on their faces, closing in on the cowering Koriand'r, a hand on her shoulder ripped her from the nightmare.

She lay still for a second, taking deep breaths as she simply stared at the familiar ceiling above her head. A calming sensation washed over her, warm and comforting. Oddly, it reminded Koriand'r of her mother, of being soothed to sleep as a child. Her breathing slowed, her mind and heart with it.

She was safe.

Rachel stood, pulled the old curtains from the windows, a trickle of light flowing in through the dirty windows. Rachel sighed at the grime. It was as though the whole house echoed her self.

"How do you do that?" Koriand'r asked her, sitting up in her bed, eyeing the other girl. To Rachel's constant surprised, Koriand'r never looked at Rachel the way some people did. The way Donna did. Even now, completely aware that Rachel had soothed her, rid her mind of any fear without uttering a word, Koriand'r was simply curious, intrigued. Rachel was sure there was even a hint of a smile in the girl's eyes.

Rachel looked away, busied herself with tying back the curtains. "It's a gift," she said simply, hoping Koriand'r wouldn't ask too many questions. "Similar to your own, to the gifts of the others." The other girl nodded, her long hair bouncing.

"Thank you," she said, a soft smile on her face now, Rachel saw as she turned to her, nodded. "If I'm correct, you've been doing that for a while." Rachel looked away again. Koriand'r laughed quietly.

"You've been restless in your sleep," Rachel explained, clearing her throat as she ran out of things to distract herself with. She shook back her hair, turned to Koriand'r. "I thought it might help."

She nodded. "It does," the princess said, clutching the covers on her bed in her hand. "Sometimes I forget where I am, that I am no longer there. For so long, it has felt as though the nightmares plague me so deeply, that I awake in the morning more exhausted than I had been the night before." Koriand'r smiled at the girl again. "My sleep has seemed much more peaceful these last few nights. So, thank you."

* * *

"Robbie, cmon," Donna said, continuing in her rant. Robbie almost found her discomfort amusing. "There's a layer of dust on everything, there's damp on all the walls, and I'm pretty sure I heard something scurry past my feet when I first came through the door."

"At least there's a roof over our heads," he countered.

Donna's eyes narrowed, humming. "A roof that I can almost guarantee is leaking in several places," she responded. She huffed. "I much prefer my roof."

Wally scoffed. "Of course you do. Your roof covers your penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park. Anyone would prefer that."

A slamming of the front door cut off Donna's retort. Given her expression, Robbie assumed it would have been a biting one.

"Hello, lovers," Garfield sang as he made his way to the kitchen at the back of the house. He waltzed through the open doorway, holding out a tray of take-away coffees for Donna to take one.

"Gar," she said wistfully, lifting the one with the small WG with a raised eyebrow. "I take back every mean thing I've ever said or done to you." Garfield grinned, cheeky.

"You can do all the mean things to me, Donna."

Donna sighed.

Victor entered a second later, bag in hand, much more hesitant than Garfield had been. Robbie smiled, raised a hand in greeting. Wally jerked his head.

"Morning Victor," Donna said, gesturing to the bench opposite her. He took the seat, shuffling his weight to get comfortable. "When did you get here?" she asked, politely.

"Same time he did," Vic stated, nodding his head back to their green friend as he passed out the coffees. "He turned up at my apartment and made me help him with the coffee run." Garfield grinned over at Donna. "I still don't know how he found out where I live," Vic muttered, voice trailing off as he thought about it.

Garfield dropped down beside Victor, taking the large paper bag from his metallic hands. "Anything is possible if you have enough money," he said simply, ripping open the bag and revealing the contents to the group. "Pastry, anyone?"

"What's a pastry?" Koriand'r asked from the doorway, peering over the heads of the group descending on the food, Rachel hovering over her shoulder. Neither of the girls were familiar with such foods, were unsure what to think, or do. But it certainly smelled delicious.

Donna smiled, laughed quietly. "It's sort of... Like a sweet bread, I guess. Sometimes, they have chocolate or sugar with it. Sometimes they're good all on their own." Donna perused the selection in front of her, picked out two pieces. Standing, she handed one to each of the girls. Koriand'r took hers gratefully, eager to try something that her new friends so clearly enjoyed. Rachel, on the other hand, hesitated. Donna rolled her eyes. "I haven't poisoned it," she quipped , turning back and returning to her seat. Slowly, Rachel took a small bite. Not too sweet, but tasty. Very tasty.

"Try it with this," Garfield suggested, handing them each a tall white cup.

"Uh," Robbie said with uncertainty, taking a step closer to Garfield. "That isn't coffee, is it?" His mind flew back to the other night, how the princess' hands had glowed after the strange explosion. The one he was convinced had to have come from her. If that was even possible.

Garfield raised an eyebrow, turning back to his old friend. "Hot chocolate," he responded, much to Robbie's relief. "I figured it was a safer bet." Robbie didn't notice the confused responses to his strange reaction.

Rachel, sensing the strange tension, stepped forward, cleared her throat. "Thank you all for coming back," she said to the group, suddenly very aware of all the eyes on her, of the wide variety of feelings flowing around her. Some were stronger than others. "I know I went over the basics yesterday, but... I think we were all rather exhausted." A few nods around the room told Rachel she was not alone.

"There's a dude named Trigon, on his way to wipe out the universe, and we're your only hope," Garfield summed up quickly, waving a hand while his other shovelled a large bite of croissant into his mouth. "So what's next? What's the big plan to take him down?"

Rachel hesitated. Donna laughed.

"You don't have a plan, do you?" she asked, shaking her head.

Rachel took a breath. "I'm still in the process of bringing one together," she admitted, feeling somewhat self-conscious. "But this plan is to stop him from getting here at all."

Robbie nodded. He supposed that was a good place to start. "What about after that?" he asked her, folding his arms over his chest as he leant against the counter. "If that plan fails, and he makes it to Earth, we'll need a plan B."

"If he makes it here, there will be no hope for a plan B," Rachel told them all. No one else said a word. "Once he's here, there's no way to stop him. Once he's here, our best hope is that he kills us all quickly."

Garfield blew out a long, low breath. "You sure know how to kill a party."

"For now," Rachel barrelled on, taking a seat at the long table. "You should all focus on your training. You'll need to be in the best shape possible for this fight. You'll need to be able to work as a team, take advantage of each other's abilities."

"We already work as a team," Donna said shortly, taking another sip of her coffee. Rachel eyed her.

"Not all of you do."

Donna looked back over to Victor, sitting at the end of the table, hands in his lap. She wasn't sure he'd moved the whole time he'd been sat there. To Koriand'r, marvelling at the light switch on the wall behind her.

She hated to admit it, but the weird girl had a point.

She nodded, refusing to voice her submission. Rachel decided to take what she could.

"What about the Psions?" Robbie wondered aloud. "What are the chances of them coming back?"

Rachel nodded to the man at the end of the table. "Thanks to Victor, they believe she's dead. They wouldn't have left if they didn't. Hopefully, it will stay that way, and we won't have to deal with them again."

Victor, cautiously, raised a hand. Rachel hesitated.

"Would you like to add something?" Robbie asks him, laugh barely suppressed.

"I know you want us to train," he began, lowering his hand as he watched Rachel. "And I'm good with that, but could I also see if I can put up some sort of... I don't know, something to alert us if those aliens come back?"

Rachel was unsure how to respond. While she had just been giving out advice and the plans for the immediate future, she was by no means prepared to be asked for permission to do further work.

Instead, she turned to Robbie. He just smiled, seemingly aware of her bewilderment.

"I think that's a really good idea, Victor," he said, nodding. "However, I have a feeling this place doesn't have much by way of technology." Glancing at Rachel for confirmation, she nodded.

"That's cool," Vic responded, his shoulder creaking as he shrugged. "I can figure that stuff out. But I'm good to do that?"

"Absolutely," Robbie said, full of sincerity. "We could definitely use a heads up if they come back." Robbie nodded at the man, grateful for his input.

"I also have a suggestion," Donna said, raising her own hand. Robbie laughed, nodded at her. Rachel was glad to have the focus off of her. "Now, I don't want either of you to take offence," she started slowly, turning to Rachel and Koriand'r. The latter, as the room fell quiet, turned from admiring the microwave. She quirked an eyebrow. "But we need to do something about your outfits."

Both of the girls looked down, observed their own clothes, each others. Koriand'r tilted her head, memories rushing back as she took in the lilac of her suit. She had been wearing it for as long as she could remember, yet she had experienced nothing good while wearing it. At least, not until she had met the people around her. Even so...

"I'd be happy to rid myself of these clothes," she said, quietly.

Garfield perked. "I can help with that."

Donna simply turned to Kory, shaking her head at the man's words. "I would apologise for him, now that you can understand him," she said, standing and moving closer to the girl. "But if I apologised every time he said something disgusting, I'd be blue in the face."

Kory just stared, her face blank. Donna smiled, friendly.

"We'll find you some new clothes," she told her, turning to the other new girl, her smile wavering. "Both of you."

Rachel eyed Donna, took in the clothing she wore. It was nothing like the long robes and capes Rachel was used to.

"Everyone wears this where I'm from," Rachel stated, pulling at her long dress. She did not like the sensation of everyone's eyes on her. She could feel a particular pair of eyes boring holes into her skin. She didn't need to meet them to know whose they were.

"And I'm sure it's fine, wherever you're from," Donna said, curt. "But here, you stand out."

Garfield snorted. "Yes, because New York is famous for its subtlety and modest characters."

Rachel frowned, turned to the princess beside her. She seemed equally confused.

"When you have abilities like you have," Robbie started, coming a little closer. "When you do the sort of work we do, you need to remain anonymous. People can't know who you are behind the mask."

Koriand'r's eyes narrowed, questioning. 'What mask?"

Robbie smiled. "The metaphorical mask. If people knew that Richard Grayson was Robin, or that Donna Troy was Wonder Girl, that Wally West was Kid Flash, if..." he trailed off, turned to Garfield. "Gar's a lost cause, he's green all of the time." Garfield squeaked in dismay, but Robbie ignored him. "But you guys have some hope of living two separate lives. Your hero one, and your home one."

"And that hope goes away if you look like that," Donna said, blunt. She'd had enough of this place, and she wanted out already. "Additionally, 'Rachel' is fine, but we need to sort out your name." She pointed at Koriand'r. Now, the princess looked offended.

"What's wrong with my name?" she asked, outraged. "My name is a royal one. I was to rule Tamaran by this name!"

Garfield smirked. "That's cool, and all. But all you'll be ruling on Earth is my spice pantry."

The room remained quiet for a moment, as Koriand'r fumed. Unsure, Donna turned to Gar, her voice low.

"You have a spice pantry?"

* * *

It was cold outside, colder than inside that house, but at least the air was fresh out here. Less diseased.

Everything about that house put her on edge. The sights, the smells, the shiver that ran down her spine every time she stepped foot inside. But, mostly, the occupants. No, she corrected herself, just the one. Something about that girl was just off. She couldn't put her finger on it, couldn't call it. But she'd figure it out. Sooner or later, she'd figure her out.

As a tall glass was placed in front of her, breaking her from her reverie, Donna looked up, smiled warmly at the man before her. Terry dropped into the seat opposite her, throwing her his signature grin. She melted every time.

Her relationship with Terry Long was... complicated. During her freshman year, Donna had taken his history class on the recommendation of a few older students. By the time he'd called an end to that first lecture, she had been infatuated. She couldn't count how many of his office hours she had taken up trying to impress him. Lucky for her, it had worked. And on the last day of her freshman year, the very same day that he left the college to pursue his writing career and finish his doctorate thesis, he gave her his number. They had been dating ever since.

Donna still kept the ripped paper from the corner of his notebook in her wallet.

Most of her friends knew of her boyfriend Terry, the writer. Some had even met him. None knew how they had met, or when, or where. Even as Donna told herself there was nothing wrong with their history, that he had no longer been her professor when they had begun dating, something still stopped her from disclosing that information. Maybe it was the concerned puppy eyes she knew would take over Robbie's face, or the incessant jokes she would be subject to from Garfield.

Either way, she told herself constantly. Either way, it didn't matter. None of that mattered. She was in love, and she was loved. That was all that was important.

"Food shouldn't be long," he told her, pulling her from her thoughts as he wrapped his coat around him. It was cold outside, but he knew Donna preferred it out here. He knew when it was too cramped inside, or too loud, or too busy. They always sat outside, and he never complained.

She smiled again. She was happy. He made her happy.

He took a sip of his drink, eyed her warily as he placed his glass back down. "What are you grinning about?" he asked, sounding unsure. "What have you done?"

Donna giggled. "Nothing," she told him, sincerity lacing her voice. "I just like you."

"You like me?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Like, like like me?" he asked, eyes wide. Donna kicked him lightly under the table, smile lighting up her face.

"You're an idiot," she said fondly, watching him laugh. She loved it when he laughed. "How was your morning?"

Terry sighed. "It would have been better if you'd still been in bed with me when I woke up." Donna smiled at his exaggerated pout.

"I'm sorry, Terry," she said, tipping her head. "I had that, uh, work meeting this morning. It was important."

Terry nodded, understanding. "How was it? Everything go alright?"

Donna took a deep breath, unsure of how to answer. "I guess?" she said, voice tilting up at the end. "I mean, no punches were thrown, no one cussed anyone else out, no one threw up. I came close, when I first got there," she corrected, pointing a finger. "But I managed to hold back." Terry smiled, amused.

"So what's bothering you?" he asked her, leaning back in his seat. Donna almost asked him what he meant by that, but stopped herself. He knew her too well by now. She sighed.

"It's the new girl," she explained quietly, leaning forward, arms crossed on the round table between them.

"Which one?" Terry asked her. "The creepy one or the alien princess?" Donna widened her eyes at his casual tone, the volume of his voice. He scoffed. "Please, it's New York. People see and hear weirder things every day."

Donna narrowed her eyes at him. "The creepy one," she said, much quieter than him. "I don't like her."

"Why not?" Terry asked, tipping his head. Donna suddenly felt very unsure. Slowly, she shrugged.

"There's just something about her," she said slowly, thinking. "She avoids most of our questions. The ones she does answer, she does so vaguely. I doubt every word that comes out of her mouth." She hesitated, lowered her voice further. "The Justice League refused to help her."

Terry's brow furrowed. "Diana?"

"I'm waiting to hear back from her," she answered, not needing a further question. "All I know is that Zatanna sensed something in this girl that she didn't like, didn't trust. So they sent her away." Donna shrugged again, finally leaning back in her seat. "I want to know what it was she thinks she sensed. If they wouldn't help her, is it really such a good idea that we do?"

Terry took a long sip of his drink, considered her question. "You look up to Diana, right? You respect her decisions?" Donna nodded.

"Unquestionably."

"Then ask yourself this," Terry suggested, his eyes piercing. "What would Diana do?"

Donna sighed. Terry always knew the right questions to ask.

Diana would help. Despite what Zatanna told them, despite the decision the Justice League, as a team, came to. Diana would help this girl, in every way she could, until she knew, without a doubt, that there was no hope. Maybe even then. Diana would help until she had nothing left to give. And if Donna wanted anything for herself, it was to be more like the woman who all but raised her.

Terry smiled, satisfied with her thoughtful silence. Donna kicked him under the table again.

* * *

"Okay," Garfield said loudly, clapping his hands together as he threw his jacket around his shoulders. "Here's what's going to happen. We're gonna go to Fifth Avenue, do some shopping in Saks, get the basics, then get some lunch, maybe visit the Guggenheim-"

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked, as Koriand'r looked just as bewildered.

Garfield shook his head is dismay. "Honestly," he muttered, despite them all being able to hear him quite clearly. "It's like I'm surrounded by animals." He huffed, headed towards the front door. "Then comes the fun part. The statement pieces. The designers, the boutiques. We'll go to all the best stores around the city, find you all the extras you'll need. Great shoes, accessories, oh my god, I'm getting you both a stylist." He span on his heel, a grin spread across his cheeks. "You ready?"

"I'm excited," Kory squealed, much to Gar's delight.

"I'm uncomfortable," Rachel said, quiet.

"I'm staying here," Robbie said, folding his arms across his chest in defiance.

Garfield simply laughed.

"No, you're not," he said, certain. "Someone needs to hold the bags. Borgy is working on that Psion alarm system, and Wally ran away before I could ask." Gar just smiled. Before Robbie could argue further, Gar leant in conspiratorially. "Plus, you'll get to see some beautiful ladies try on whatever clothes you pick out for them. And they're going to need underthings." The harsh whisper of that last word had Robbie closing his eyes in embarrassment.

"You're a pervert," he breathes, mimicking his friend's tone. Despite the words, Garfield's smile didn't falter. Instead, he shrugged.

"Fine," he said, turning back to the girls. "Stay here, if you really want to. Guess I'll just have to pick out all of their clothes myself. And I mean all the clothes. All to my taste. It's a shame winter is approaching. These girls sure will be cold in the things I plan to pick out for-"

"Alright, okay," Robbie growled, pushing past his old time friend to grab his jacket from the kitchen. "I'll go. Just stop subjecting the girls to your vulgar fantasies."

Garfield smiled again. Ever the hero, he knew just how to play Robbie. He could never, on pain of death, subject anyone to Garfield's wanton ways. It almost made messing with him too easy.

"Good, now that everyone's on board..." Garfield trailed off, looking at the two girls, waiting for he and Robbie patiently in what could only very loosely be called a living room. He sighed. "Okay, Rae-Rae, lose the cloak."

The girl in question startled. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. "Um..." she finally settled on.

"Just leave it here, you won't need it," he argued, waving her off.

"Isn't it cold outside?" Koriand'r asked, feeling the other girl's hesitance.

"Pain is beauty, my friend," he said airily, now analysing the other girl. Robbie, returning to the living room with his jacket in hand, rolled his eyes.

"Just give her your jacket and let's go, already," he demanded, clearly already agitated.

Garfield hummed, considered Koriand'r's space suit as Robbie wrapped his bomber jacket over her shoulders. He nodded, surprised. "Kooky, but it might just work." He turned back to Rachel, shrugging off his own coat once again and handing it over to her. He pointed a finger at her as she draped her cloak over the couch in favour of the man's outerwear. "If anyone asks, you've just left a wedding."

Nodding in approval after another once-over of the pair, Garfield turned on his heel, the girls following close behind. Robbie took a second to consider his fate.

Finally, with a huff, he followed after that.

"Today is going to be a loooong day."

* * *

"... And he will take the Gotham Burger," Garfield told the waiter, finishing up their orders with a wink in Robbie's direction.

Robbie, in an effort not to laugh at his friend's awful joke, turned to watch the girls, both of them in awe of their surroundings. Admittedly, Robbie was a little, too.

He had passed the Four Seasons hotel many times since he'd moved to New York City, but he'd never been inside. Never really wanted to, either. But now, sitting in The Garden, the hotel's restaurant, surrounded by the indoor trees and beautiful decor, he couldn't think of why.

"What does that sign say?" Rachel asked, gesturing with her head to the tall sign a restaurant worker had put up at the restaurants entrance, blocking the path in from the hotel lobby.

"It says they're closed," Garfield told her casually, leaning back comfortably in his seat. "They close at two thirty."

The other three looked at each other, at the staff, then back to Garfield.

"Then why bring us here?" Robbie asked, checking his watch. Two thirty on the dot. "Better yet, why did they let us order?"

Garfield snorted, looking at Robbie as though he'd asked why people like puppies. Because duh. "Because I'm a Logan."

Koriand'r shuffled in her seat. "What's a Logan?"

"It's my last name," he told her. "My family is very rich, very powerful, and very influential." Garfield cocked a smile. "They stay open for me, I tip exceptionally well and tell all my friends and followers what a great place this is, all of a sudden, everyone wants to eat here."

"Your last name?" Koriand'r repeated. Robbie and Garfield looked at each other, blinked.

"You don't have a last name?" Robbie asked her, baffled. Slowly, unsurely, she shook her head. "Everyone has a last name."

"What's your last name, then?" she asked, brow furrowed. She seemed a little defensive, if Robbie was right.

"Grayson," he told her, holding out a hand. "Richard Grayson."

His hand sat in the air. Koriand'r simply stared at it.

"Richard? I thought your name was Robbie."

Robbie sighed. "It is," he explained, finally lowering his hand, ignoring Garfield's smirk. "Robbie is a nickname."

"What's a nickname?"

Robbie took a breath. Is this what it felt like to have a toddler?

"A nickname is a name someone, usually a friend or a family member, gives you," Robbie started, leaning back in his seat. He was already exhausted, and Garfield wasn't even nearly done shopping. "Sometimes it's based off your last name, or it's a shorter version of your actual name."

"How does Robbie come from Richard?" This girl sure was curious.

"It doesn't," Robbie said shortly.

"Then where did you get it?" Koriand'r pried. "Who gave it to you?"

"My mom gave it to me, kind of, when I was younger," he said, taking another deep breath. He ignored the sting in his chest, spared a quick glance at the other girl opposite him, and barrelled on. "She used to call me her little Robin. So, when I got older, and started..." he trailed off, looked around the quiet, almost empty restaurant. "When I started my current job, I needed a name, different to my birth name. I picked Robin. Now my friends call me Robbie."

Koriand'r narrowed her eyes, at least having understood his subtle gesture at not responding with anything too loud and too personal.

"But why did she call you her little Robin?" she dug further, leaning forward. "Why Robin?"

Robbie leaned back further in his seat, sinking.

Garfield turned to Rachel, watching her watch the other pair in amusement for a moment. Garfield had kept his promise. While they had waited for the personal shoppers at Saks to pull many outfit choices for the girls, and more than a couple for he and Robbie too, they had also sent up a couple of stylists. Koriand'r had screamed bloody murder when one of the stylists had tried to touch her hair, but other than that, it had all gone down a treat. They'd been given facial treatments, manicures and makeovers, and where Rachel's dark hair had once easily reached her lower back, the loose waves now barely passed her shoulders. Garfield thought it was a good look on her.

"What's your last name?" Garfield asked suddenly, drawing her attention to him. She turned to him, eyes wide. She shook her head.

"We don't have last names on Azareth," she told him, noting his blank stare. "That's where I'm from. Azareth. "It's..." She looked back at Robbie for a second, then lowered her voice, leant in. "It's in another dimension." Garfield nodded.

"So what are your parents names?" he asked her, clearly taking her by surprise. "On Earth, we take our last names from our parents. Usually, in our culture, at least, from the father."

Rachel cleared her throat. She was uncomfortable, Gar noted.

"I don't know my father," she stated plainly, avoiding his eye. He smiled.

"Then what's your mother's name?" he continued.

Rachel sniffed. "Arella."

Garfield waited a beat, but she didn't continue. "Arella? That's it?" She nodded. He thought about it for a moment. "I suppose we could try something with that." At Rachel's frown, he expanded. "You're going to need a surname, you both will. If you're planning on staying here, even for a short while, you're going to need IDs, at the very least. And for that, you'll need a last name." He played with the name for a while, trying to make different noises, different syllables with it. Rachel watched him, a smile growing on her face.

"Roth," she said quietly, shutting him up quickly.

"What?" he asked, eyes wide in question.

"My mother moved to Azareth just before I was born, but she was born on Earth," Rachel explained, laying her hands flat against the table. "Before she became Arella, her name was Angela Roth."

Garfield nodded slowly. Thoughtfully. "Rachel Roth," he said quietly, nodding still. "I like it," he decided, pointing a finger at her. "From now on, your Earth name is Rachel Roth." The girl smiled, a little shyly.

"What's my Earth name?" Koriand'r asked him, clearly intrigued by the other conversation going on at the table. Garfield turned to her, looked her up and down.

"Cumin."

Robbie rolled his eyes as Koriand'r repeated the strange new world.

"Ignore him," he told her, booting Gar's leg under the table. "He's trying to be funny."

"If you need to try," Garfield quipped. "You're not."

Robbie smiled, his sarcasm dripping. "Try telling yourself that."

"I'd like to keep some of my name, please," Koriand'r requested, ignoring the boys' banter. "Rachel got to keep her name, I want to keep mine too."

"Fine, fine," Garfield murmured, settling into his seat. "Koriand'r," he said slowly, feeling it in his mouth. "Koriand'r. Korian... Korrianne? Kori..."

"Kory?" Robbie suggested, turning back to the girl in question. "How does Kory sound?"

The girl's face lit up as she bit her lip. "Would I fit in with Kory?"

Robbie nodded, earnest. "Yeah, definitely. It's not a super common name for a girl, but it's definitely human."

The princess grinned. "Kory," she repeated, trying it on for size. "I like it. But what about my last name?"

Robbie turned to Garfield, blew out a breath. Suddenly, the other man smiled.

"Anders," Garfield said simply, eyes bright.

Robbie stared for a moment. "Koriand'r to Kory Anders," he said, deadpan. Garfield nodded enthusiastically.

"Kory Anders!" he said again, grinning.

"I love it!" the girl cried, clapping her hands together in excitement. "I get to keep my name!"

Robbie shook his head, looked across the table at Rachel.

"Kory Anders," was all he could manage to say. She just smiled.

* * *

Donna dropped onto the kitchen bench opposite Wally, slamming her textbooks down with her. It's a wonder they didn't snap the table in two.

Wally looked up from his own work, grinning at Donna's clear frustration.

"Yeah, it's funny now," she said quietly, glaring at him as she opened her laptop. "But your senior year is fast approaching, my friend. And when it gets here, I'll be two years clear of college, and have all the time in the world to laugh at _your_ pain." Wally didn't even bother trying to smother his smirk now.

"How do you manage it?" he asked her suddenly, curious. She looked up from her laptop screen, eyebrows high.

"Manage what?"

"Everything," he said simply, shrugging a shoulder. "You go to your lectures, you write your papers, you study, you freelance when you can. And on top of all of that, you're still doing the superhero stuff." He shrugged his shoulder again, self-conscious now. "It all got to be too much for me."

Donna nodded. "Well," she started, dropping a hand onto the table between them both, almost a comfort to him. "For starters, I go to college in the city. Not half way across the country."

Wally shrugged. "Okay, I'm the Kid Flash," he said, as though that explained everything. "Distance means very little to me. Secondly, Nebraska is my home. I wanted to stay close. That's why I picked Blue Valley College in the first place."

Donna nodded, slow. "That makes sense," she said, trailing off for a moment. "But if you wanted to stay so close to home, then why are you here?"

The front door opened, saving Wally from having to explain his reasoning. Or, at least, make up a reason so he didn't have to admit to his friend that he didn't know his reasoning. Truthfully, he had no idea why he was here, why he had changed his mind about coming to New York, and he didn't want to have to tell Donna that. The look on her face, though, told him she knew, and that the conversation wasn't over.

With hurried footsteps and plenty of rustling, Koriand'r squeezed through the kitchen doorframe, weighed down on either side by bags galore.

"Donna!" the girl cried, smile lighting up her face. She held up the bags, shaking them lightly. "We went shopping!"

Donna smirked as Robbie poked his head around the door behind her, laden with more paper bags and clearly exhausted from his day. "You certainly did."

"We got so many pretty things," Koriand'r continued, setting the bag on the table. She pulled out item after item, holding them out for Donna to see, expressing her excitement for each article of clothing, each pair of shoes, each accessory. Donna couldn't help but smile with the girl. "We got some things for you guys too," Koriand'r said a minute or two later, folding a sweater back into one of the bags. "I think Robbie has it, with the rest of my things."

Wally snorted, surprised. "You have more?"

Koriand'r nodded.

Getting up from their seats, Donna and Wally made their way into the living room. Both Robbie and Rachel were curled up on the couch, the former barely managing to stay awake, as Garfield dumped the contents of a bag onto the pillow between them. Robbie groaned.

"The sight of clothing now makes me sick," he said quietly. Garfield smirked.

"Same," he said lowly, ignoring Donna's scoff of disgust.

"You cut your hair," Wally said suddenly behind Donna. She frowned, turned, confused. He was staring at Rachel, who was now tucking her hair behind her ear, avoiding everyone's gaze.

Garfield turned to them, smiled. "Kory refused to let anyone touch her hair, but Rachel seemed up for it," he explained, ignorant of the twisting in Wally's stomach.

"It's more convenient, now," Rachel said, shrugging a shoulder as she played with the ends of her hair. "The air here makes my hair very unmanageable. It's easier if it's shorter." She trailed off, her voice low as the others stared between her and the princess. "Or so I'm told."

"Kory?" Donna asked, eyebrows raised. She looked to the girl in question.

She nodded, slowly, unsure. "Robbie said it's a human name. I should seem more human now, right?" Donna smiled. She couldn't disagree.

"I like it," she said, stepping closer. "It suits you." The other girl grinned.

"Kory Anders," Robbie supplied, barely picking his head up from the back of the couch. "That's her surname. Blame Gar."

Donna shook her head. "Couldn't come up with anything else?"

"No need," the man grinned, watching Kory swirl around, holding a dress against her body. "She clearly loves it."

"I do!" the girl sang, not ceasing in her movements.

As the others watched the girl, spinning and giggling, Wally approached Rachel, knelt down behind the low couch so they were on eye level. Suddenly, Rachel felt very warm.

"It looks nice," he said quietly, so as not to draw any attention. Rachel held his gaze for a moment, eyes flickering back and forth between his.

"Thank you," she murmured, ignoring the waves of emotion she felt from him. She knows those words, those feelings, only stemmed from what she had done in order to get him to the city, but it was still a pleasant feeling. The way her stomach tightened, her palms grew clammy. It was strange, but not unwelcome. Even though she knew it was all a lie.

"I was thinking of going to see Carol Sladky tomorrow," Donna said, drawing Rachel's attention back to the group. For a moment, she had forgotten they were there at all. "See how she's settling into the new apartment."

Robbie nodded, agreeing. "That's a good idea. She if there's anything else we can do for her, too. We still have some money left in that anonymous emergency fund to rehouse those residents." With a pointed eyebrow raise at Garfield, the other man smiled. "Thank you for that, Gar."

He shrugged, very casual about the millions of dollars he'd donated for those who'd lost their homes in that Psion attack, and for the funerals of those who'd lost their lives. "Hey, if I have to sacrifice my twenty second holiday home so these people can get some peace, then so be it."

Robbie shook his head, a small smile covering his lips. "I'm gonna go check on Vic," Robbie said, rising from the couch with a groan. He really needed to get back into shape. His time away from Gotham had been lazier than he was used to. He now had to actually work to be able to afford to live, which meant crime fighting and training had taken a bit of a backseat. He worked minimum wage, and apartments in the city were certainly not cheap, so his hours were long and exhausting. It didn't make a good recipe for a supposed hero. "He's up on the roof, trying to figure out that alarm system, in case the Psions come back. I'm gonna see if he needs a hand."

Donna laughed. "Maybe you'd be better off just standing to the side and observing, Rob. I think he trumps you here."

Ignoring the jab, Robbie turned and walked away, heading up the stairs as the others began to disperse too. Kory held up a very fluffy cardigan in Donna's face, eager to show off the rest of her haul, while Wally, smiling at the group, stood to return to his college work. He did, after all, have to go back to Blue Valley at some point.

At the kitchen doorway, Wally paused, turned back to his green friend. "Hey, Gar?" he called, drawing the man's attention. He hummed. "Do you actually have twenty two holiday homes?"

Garfield laughed, shook his head. "That was a joke, Wally," he smiled, much to the other man's relief. "There's rich, and then there's stupid rich." Wally nodded, agreeing. "I actually only have thirteen."

* * *

Carol refused to turn from the window, refused to meet his eye. She knew if she did, she would want to forgive him, for everything. But he had hurt her too many times to count. To forgive him now, to take him back, after everything they had been through, would be a mistake. She would be sealing her own fate. She needed to remain strong, no matter how impossible it seemed.

"Carol, please," Grant begged again, his voice breaking with emotion. She knew he was sorry, she could tell that much. Genuinely sorry. But, sometimes, being sorry isn't enough. Sometimes, there's no going back.

"I've already made up my mind, Grant," she told him, eyes stinging. "Too much has happened. I can't do that again."

"It won't happen again," he promised. She could hear his footsteps, slowly moving closer to her. "I swear to you. I've put you through hell, I know that, I just want to make it up to you. Please, let me make it up to you."

Carol closed her eyes against the tears, felt him just behind her. She could hear his ragged breathing, feel the warmth radiating from him. She missed him, she could admit that much to herself. And she still loved him. Maybe she always would. All she wanted was to turn to him, feel his arms around her, holding her close. He had always held her close, like he just couldn't bare to ever let her go. She'd always felt safe there, like nothing and no one could ever hurt her. Until he did.

"And how long would that last, Grant?" she asked him, finally turning to face him. His guilt, his shame, was evident in his eyes. She could see it. But she wasn't sure it would ever be enough. "Until the next pretty girl walks by?"

"No," he argued, his eyes falling shut for a second. "I'm done with that. I don't know..." He swallowed, his breathing heavy. "I don't know why I did those things. I love you, and I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did."

"I know," he breathed, nodding. There were tears in his eyes now, she noted, even as he tried to blink them away. "And I can't take them back. But maybe we can try again. Start over." He paused, gave her a moment to think. "I'll be better this time, I promise. I'll be good to you, in all the ways in should have been. In all the ways I wasn't."

Carol couldn't believe it, but she found herself actually considering it.

Lump in her throat, she folded her arms over her chest. "Stop seeing your friends."

Grant blinked. "What?"

"Those friends you've been spending so much time with," she elaborated, biting her lip for a moment. "The ones you're really secretive about. Stop spending time with them. Stop contacting them."

"You want me to cut all ties with my friends?" he asked her, almost scoffing.

"Not all of them," she corrected, steeling herself. "Just the new ones. You haven't been you since you met them. I don't like who you've become since then."

Grant laughed. "This is ridiculous," he said, turning away from her, shaking his head in disbelief. "You can't tell me who I can and can't spend time with. You can't control me like that."

"No, I can't," Carol agreed, staying put. "But you said you wanted to make it up to me. If you really want to do that, to give this another go... If you really love me, you'll stay away from them."

"I'm with them because I love you!" he shouted across the room, spinning back to her. "They're making me better, stronger, so I can be better for you! So I can protect you! Why can't you see that?"

"Protect me from what, Grant?" she asked, taking a few steps closer now. "You're the only one that's hurt me."

Grant scoffed now, loud. "You could have died the other night, Carol," he reminded her, swinging his arms out to gesture at the room around them. "This new apartment sure is nice, but it's a real shame about the old one. You remember, right? The one the aliens crashed into? The one that collapsed?"

"Oh, please," Carol said, glaring. "Your problems have been going on since way before that. Even before the multiple girls you cheated on me with. You remember that, right?" she said, mockingly.

Grant didn't seem to appreciate her tone.

He stepped forward, held up a finger in her face. "I love you, but don't you dare speak to me like that again."

Narrowing her eyes, Carol could feel her whole face hardening. This wasn't the man she loved. She didn't even know this man. "Or what, Grant?" she challenged.

They both remained silent for a minute, neither one of them willing to break first.

Eventually, Carol laughed, the sound bitter. "Get out of my apartment, Grant," she said, finally turning back to the window, shaking her head. The man she had known was long gone, and the one stood behind her was a stranger. One she knew she wasn't going to miss.

To her surprise, Grant responded. "No," he said shortly, voice hard. She huffed.

"I don't want you here," she told him, rubbing her arms with her hands, a comfort.

"I don't care," Grant said, stepping closer to her again. "I'm not leaving. We're not done talking."

"I'm done," she said quietly, gasping in surprise as he grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn to look him in the eye.

"I'm not."

"Let me go," she told him, remaining still. His grip was tight. It would only hurt more if she tried to pull away, and she wouldn't get far. His grip did not loosen. "You're hurting me."

Grant hesitated. "If I let you go," he started, eyes wide. "We're going to sit down, and we're going to talk. You're going to hear me out."

"No," Carol said, her voice firm, unwavering. She had made up her mind now. Grant's face twisted into something between anger and grief, his grip tightening. She was sure he would leave bruises.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something cutting, she was sure, but before anything could leave his mouth, he was gone, a blast of air rushing past her. Taking a step back as things crashed around her, she turned, saw Grant in a heap on the floor, leaning against the wall. The frames that were hanging there fell, the glass shattering as they hit the floor.

For a moment, Carol was lost.

"That is not the way you touch a woman," the woman before her said, her voice cracking. It took Carol a solid thirty seconds, enough time for Grant to get to his feet, but, eventually, she recognised her.

The strange lilac bodysuit was gone, replaced by jeans and a designer blouse, but the long red curls and the shimmering skin were the same.

Grant's eyes narrowed in on the girl, and Carol saw the recognition over his face. "You're the girl," he said quietly, pointing a finger. "You nearly crashed into me."

The girl nodded. "I was told what happened. I would thank you for trying to help me," she said, looking him up and down, disgust on her face. "But you aren't the hero I was expecting."

Grant tipped his head, laughed. "Maybe I should have just left you there," he suggested, shrugging a shoulder. "Let the building collapse in on you. Let those aliens find you."

The redhead stepped closer, her steps pointed, determined. "Maybe you should leave," she said quietly, slowly. "Before I let you fall through that window."

Grant drew in a breath. He looked from the redhead before him, to Carol, to the other girl, still stood in the doorway, and back again. Finally, he turned back to Carol, his jaw ticking. "This isn't over," he told her. And for a moment, as their eyes locked, Carol could almost see her Grant in there. His words were not a threat, nor were they anything to fear. They were a promise. He wasn't giving up. Not on her, on them. "We're going to figure this out."

As Carol watched him leave, she almost wished they could.

* * *

"So," Carol said brightly, placing the patterned mugs on the coffee table in front of her guests. "You're friends of those superhero guys?"

Kory looked to Donna, who nodded.

"They were the ones who found Kory," Donna tried to explain, tipping her head at the girl next to her. "They got her to safety."

Kory nodded, smiling at Carol. "One of them told me what you did for me. That you took me in, tried to help me. I wanted to come by and thank you, for your kindness. And to apologise for all that happened afterwards."

Carol returned the smile, though Donna could tell that it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It was no problem," she insisted, fussing over the blanket that was thrown over the armchair she sat in. There was nothing wrong with it. It probably just gave her something to do with her hands, Donna thought. Something to distract her.

Donna cleared her throat. "The team also asked us to check in on you. Make sure you were settling in alright, after the rough weekend you've had." Carol laughed, cocking an eyebrow.

"It has been quite a trying couple of days, hasn't it?" She smiled, shook her head, looking around the room. "I'm alright. It's a lovely apartment, a great building, and the area is nice. Thank them for me, will you?" she requested, to which Donna nodded. "I wanted to, but I wasn't sure how to get a hold of them."

"We can pass along the message," Donna said, a small smile on her face. "Did you need a hand unpacking?" She gestured over to the mound of boxes in the corner, beside the front door.

Carol shook her head, waving it off. "No, I've got a few days off from the hospital. They thought it best, given everything that happened." Donna nodded. She could only agree. "So I'll be spending that time getting things done just how I like it. I haven't had a place that's all mine and only mine in a while." The trailed off, stared into her mug of tea. Donna got the feeling she was lost in some distant, happy memory. Or, at the very least, she hoped she was.

"He's not a bad guy," Carol said suddenly, just as Donna was considering leaving her to reminisce. "Grant, he's not... he's not bad. He's just... He's had it rough, you know?" She looked up, her eyes sad and pleading. "His dad left when he was really young, and he hasn't had any contact with him since. And he's been trying to find him for years, but he keeps running into dead ends." Carol shrugged, sniffed. "He met some people a few months ago, they said they could help Grant find him, but they keep making him do all these things for them. Like, favours, I guess. And he just does as they ask."

Donna's brow furrowed. "What sort of things does he do?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Anything," Carol said on a sigh. "He had a phone call once, in the middle of the night. It was them, asking him to do something. He wouldn't tell me what, but he just got up, got dressed and left." Carol paused, laughed softly. "He came back four days later. Wouldn't say a word. His clothes were different, his old ones nowhere to be found, and when I went through his wallet to find something to tell me what had happened, the inside was covered in blood."

Donna let out a breath. Carol could only nod.

"I didn't ask any questions," she said, shaking her head. "I didn't want to know. I didn't want to have to choose between going to the police, or..."

"Or protecting the man you love," Donna finished for her. Carol nodded, not looking up from the floor. "There's nothing wrong with that. Protecting the people you love. It's all any of us want to do."

"He could have killed someone," Carol said, voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I froze, and I didn't want to know. I didn't want to know if he was capable of that." She shrugged again, lent back. Tears were shining in her eyes. "So I just pretended that I hadn't seen anything. And I carried on as normal. I hate that I did that for him. I hate that it was so easy for me, when he couldn't even stay out of other people's beds."

Donna watched her for a moment, watched her wipe away her tears. "Love makes us do strange things," she said, hoping to console the woman, at least a little bit. "Extraordinary things. Things we never thought we would be capable of doing."

"You know what the worst part is?" she asked, laughing again. "I miss him. I actually miss him." She laughed some more. It sounded almost maniacal. "After everything, I still want him."

"You don't want him," Donna corrected. If she was honest, she was worried about the girl. The last thing she needed was that man back in her life. The look on his face when they had first walked in, the way he had looked her, his grip on her arm... It had frightened Donna. "You don't miss him, you miss who he used to be. You miss what the two of you used to have."

The girl nodded once more, her eyes closing.

"I'm sorry," she said, laughing at herself. She sniffed. "I didn't mean to drag you into my drama."

Donna smiled, saw Kory do the same. "Anytime," Donna said, reaching over to place a hand over Carol's. "I mean that."

Carol smiled again, a small, but genuine smile. She was going to be just fine.

* * *

Sitting on the dusty old couch, the sunlight barely spilling in through the dirty windows, Robbie tried desperately, fruitlessly, to put the wires back into place in the old radio in front of him. He had started with such good intentions. Now he was just stuck in a mess that he didn't know how to fix.

Loud footsteps signalled a new arrival to the room, and judging by the mechanical creaks that accompanied them, he had one guess. He turned anyway, so as not to make the other man aware that he recognised him purely by his footsteps.

"Hey, Vic," he greeted, smiling at the tall man. "How's your baby doing?" He turned back to the radio, pulled it closer to him.

Vic rounded the couch, hands on his hips as he watched Robbie. "It's up and running," he said, gaining a hum of approval from the man on the couch. "Not well, but it's the best that I can manage at the minute. I'll try and upgrade it when I can, but the materials are hard to come by, and it's not exactly... With the technology in this house... you can barely get a cell signal... so it's hard to..." he trailed off, watching Robbie snap something in the back of that poor radio that definitely should not have been snapped. "What did that radio ever do to you?"

Robbie looked up, eyebrows high. "What?" he asked, clearly lost in his work. Well. Vic wouldn't exactly call that work.

"What are you doing?" Vic asked, slower this time.

Robbie sighed. "I'm trying to tune this radio," he explained. Vic just winced. "It's an old police scanner."

Vic dropped down onto the cushion beside him, narrowing his eyes. "Where'd you get an old police scanner?" he asked, suspicious. Robbie just cleared his throat.

"I found it," he said shortly, offering no further explanation. "But it's old and rusty and it would barely turn on, so I thought I'd open it up and take a look." Vic picked up the radio from the table, tutted at the wires protruding from the open panel. "I might have made it worse."

Vic raised an eyebrow. "Might have?" he repeated, almost scoffing. "Give me a minute," he instructed, laying the radio back down, his hand retreating into his metal arm and reappearing a moment later with much smaller appendages, sparking electricity. Robbie just looked on in admiration.

For a few minutes, the room was silent. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, for either of the men. Neither disliked the other. But they still weren't friends. They barely knew one another. Neither even knew the other existed until three days ago, and they'd hardly had the spare time to bond. Robbie, twiddling his thumbs just to give him something to do, struggled to find something, anything, to say. He had never really been good with small talk. Victor cleared his throat, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"So," Robbie finally tried, breathing deeply. "You mentioned the other night that you live in Hell's Kitchen." Robbie paused, waiting for some kind of response. Vic just hummed. "Did you grow up there, or...?"

It took Vic a minute, but, eventually, he responded. "No, I grew up on Fifth Avenue."

Robbie's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" he asked, nodding his head. That was not what he expected. "Wow. Nice. Donna lives there now, the apartments up there are beautiful. Why'd you leave?"

Vic shrugged a shoulder, very casual. "My mom died, and then my dad turned me into a robotic monster." As Vic turned to him, Robbie struggled to maintain eye contact. Somehow, Robbie always knew the best way to shove his foot into his mouth. "I figured maybe it was time to get my own place."

After that, Robbie stopped trying to make conversation.

* * *

The office door slammed open as Grant Wilson burst into the doctor's office, marching up to the desk, his breathing ragged.

"You said we were going to start soon."

The doctor cleared his throat, fiddled with his tie. "And we will, Mr Wilson. But we need to complete all the necessary checks first. We don't know how you'll respond to the drugs in the long run."

"I don't care," Grant cut in, shaking his head and leaning forward on the desk. "I want to start today."

"Mr Wilson," the doctor said slowly. "These procedures are in place for a reason. There might be side effects-"

"I don't _care_ ," Grant repeated, harsher this time. "It'll be worth it."

The doctor leaned back in his seat, studying Grant carefully. "To start this soon, you'd need to sign a waiver."

"I'll sign whatever you want."

"And once you do," the doctor continued, voice hard. "There's no going back, Mr Wilson. You'll belong to us. Mind, body and soul. For the rest of your life."

Grant's jaw ticked. It _would_ be worth it. It had to be. He had already gone too far. Done too much. He couldn't come back from this now... He didn't know what else he could do.

"Let me get rid of those _heroes_ ," Grant finally said, his laugh bitter. "And I'm all yours."

The doctor watched Grant for a second. He saw no hesitancy in his eyes. Finally, he took a file from his drawer, slid it over to the man, directed him to sign where the tabs indicated.

Grant did as he was asked. He didn't see the doctor smile.

* * *

High on the mountain peak, the wind was icy, sharp. It stung Rachel's cheeks, rang in her ears. The ground crumbled beneath her feet, falling into the treacherous waves far below. Anyone who saw the girl there may have feared for her life, for no one could survive the fall that was sure to come, and soon. But no one would happen upon this place by accident. No one could.

In the sky above her, barely breaking through the dark, rumbling clouds, a small aura of light shone.

"Please," Rachel begged, her voice hoarse. "Speak to me."

She waited a moment, allowed time for a response. None came.

"Just tell me what you want. I can help you."

A crack of thunder sounded around her. The hairs all over her body stood upright.

"I'm begging you," she tried again, shouting now, ensuring she was heard over the storm. "Tell me what I can do. Let me help!"

A flash of lightning. The thunder boomed again a second later, much louder this time. Rachel steeled herself, even as her lip trembled.

"I'm not leaving," she said, squaring her shoulders. "I'm not leaving until you-"

She was cut off, though, by another sharp bolt of lightning, hitting the mountain, inches from where she stood. Her body was flung from the peak, falling down, down, towards the crashing waves below her.

She had failed. Once again, she failed. She wasn't sure what to do next. Wasn't sure if there was anything she could do. She watched as the rocks jutting from the water's surface grew closer, bigger, deadlier. Then, in a blink, she disappeared.

* * *

"Why don't you like Rachel?" Vic suddenly asked, out of the blue, just as Robbie was beginning to get comfortable in the silence; it had been so long since anyone had spoken that it had gotten dark out. He sat a little straighter, tilting his head. Vic wasn't looking at him, to engrossed in his work with the radio. Robbie couldn't say for sure, but he had a feeling that Vic was deliberately avoiding his eye.

"I've never said I don't like her."

Vic snorted. "You've never needed to. It's pretty obvious."

Robbie considered his next few words carefully. "It's not that I don't like her. I don't know her well enough to make that decision yet."

"I think Donna has."

Robbie couldn't really disagree with that.

"Donna's just cautious," Robbie tried to explain, doing his best to defend his longtime friend. "She doesn't Rachel yet. And, honestly, I'm not sure I do, either."

"You don't believe her story?" Vic asked, finally looking up from his work. His eyes were guarded, cautious. "About this Trigon dude?"

Robbie shrugged, shook his head. "I don't know if I believe her. She seemed to be telling the truth. Though she has been pretty vague on the whole subject." Robbie paused. "The Justice League is my biggest issue. They don't refuse people who need help."

"But they refused Rachel." Robbie nodded.

"Exactly," he said, leaning forward in his seat on the old couch. "They must have had a reason for that."

Vic stopped working for a second, turned to Robbie more fully. "Well, you're Robin, right? Don't you have an in at the Justice League?"

Robbie cleared his throat, suddenly uneasy at the attention. "Uh, he and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now."

Vic snorted. "Isn't this a bit more important than a family squabble?"

"It would be, normally," Robbie agreed. "But I've spent the last six months in a studio apartment in Brooklyn and working a shitty minimum wage job to support myself. If I ask him for help now, it's going to feel like I failed. Like I can't do this on my own." Even as he spoke, Robbie could hear the dumb pride in his words. This was bigger than him now. Everything that was going on, with Rachel, with Trigon, with the team. It was bigger than him, and it was bigger than his fight with Bruce. "But you're right," he continued. Vic looked up at him again, eyes narrower as Robbie pulled out his phone. "This is more important. I'm gonna call him, see what-"

"Don't," Vic cut in, moments before Robbie could hit the call button. Robbie turned, eyebrow raised. "Maybe you can't do this on your own, but that doesn't mean you have to call him." Vic shrugged, the casual move betrayed by the emotion in his voice. Robbie nodded, putting his phone back down on the coffee table. "If I can understand anything, it's how much family can suck. And we're supposed to be a team, right?"

Robbie couldn't help but smile.

"Right," he agreed nodding.

"So, we'll figure this out as a team," Vic said, nodding as though that was final, and returning to his work on the old radio. "A team that Rachel brought together."

Robbie smiled. It turned out, Vic wasn't one to let something go so easily. "For a reason that we don't know of."

"We know why."

"We know what she told us," Robbie corrected, leaning back in his seat again. "I'm not saying she's lying-"

"Sure sounds like it."

Robbie paused. He was right. It did sound like it. "Okay, let's give her the benefit of the doubt. Let's say she's not lying. My next step, with any other case, would be to investigate. Investigate her, her sources, Trigon. Then I'd come up with some sort of a plan."

"So do that," Vic suggested, shrugging a tense shoulder.

"I did," Robbie told him, before backtracking. "Well, I tried. But I couldn't find a single thing on any of the above." Vic paused once again. "No one has ever heard of Trigon, Rachel isn't on any system that I can get into on the planet, and her sources are her own 'visions'. I have nothing to work with except her word."

"What do you mean, she isn't on any system on the planet?" Vic asked, eyebrows low. "How is that possible?"

"She mentioned yesterday that she was born in this place called Azareth. She said it's in another dimension." Vic's face didn't move. "Yeah. And I was looking into it this morning, and there is nothing about her anywhere. No birth certificate, no school or bank records, no employment history, no sign of her face on any security camera in the world. Then, last week, she just pops up out of nowhere."

"Well, doesn't that fit?" Vic asked, elbows on his knees, radio forgotten. "She was born in another dimension, lived there her whole life, until she comes here to find us. She wouldn't have any records here, right?"

"Right," Robbie agreed. "But I really don't know where to go from there. I'm out of my depth with this. I don't know what to do."

Vic was quiet for a long time, unsure how to respond. Finally, though, he shrugged.

"Do what you do best," he suggested, gesturing back to the radio in front of them. "Fight crime. Beat the bad guys. We'll figure the rest out along the way. As a team."

Robbie nodded, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.

"Question, though," Vic continued, pulling the radio to him again and recommencing his work. Robbie hummed. "How is it you can access bank records and security cameras around the world, but you can't fix an outdated police scanner?"

Robbie grinned. "Honestly, I tend to outsource the computer work." Vic nodded, like that was what he had been expecting. "I have a friend back in Gotham. She's a genius with that sort of stuff."

"A computer whiz, huh?" Vic asked, smiling a little. "I'd like to meet this friend of yours."

Robbie nodded hoping that one day he could, that they all could. He definitely missed her.

Breaking through Robbie's reverie, a loud crackling sound brought his attention back to the radio. A few seconds of it, and suddenly, nothing. Robbie turned to Vic, who simply held up a finger. Then, a voice broke through the silence.

"... another anonymous call about a cargo robbery at the docks."

Robbie turned to Vic, his eyebrows high. He'd done it.

"That's the fourth one this week" another voice said, clearly exasperated. Robbie was already on his feet, dialing Donna's number as he ran to grab his jacket. Vic stayed where he was, listening in to the rest of the call.

"Donna, hey," Robbie greeted when she picked up. "Listen, there's a robbery down at the docks. I'm gonna check it out, if you want to join."

"Sure," she said, her voice a little tight. She lowered it as she continued. "But I need to talk to you about Kory, too."

Robbie paused in his movements. "Is she okay?"

"I mean, she's fine," Donna said, quiet. "But something happened at Carol's apartment, and-"

Vic jumped to his feet when the noise over the radio escalated, bangs echoing through the bare room. "That was gunfire, right?" Robbie nodded.

"Donna, listen, I've gotta go," he said over the phone, headed out the door, Vic hot on his heels. "Meet us at the docks."

* * *

The docks were shrouded in darkness as the men worked. They didn't need any light to see the path ahead of them, or to complete their work.

Neither, apparently, did Victor Stone.

"They're loading boxes into the trucks. Wearing masks. I can't see faces, and I can't see any weapons."

"Any casualties?" Robbie asked from beside him, perched high above the docks on the roof of one of the warehouses.

Unfortunately, Vic had to nod. "I can see a couple of bodies. No movement." Vic sighed. "Looks like cops."

Robbie nodded, bit the inside of his cheek. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd arrived too late.

"Can you see what's in the boxes?"

Vic's eye whirred as he zoomed in on the boxes. "They're taped shut, but it looks like they're from a pharmaceutical company." Vic hesitated. Something about this was... weird.

"What is it?" Robbie said quietly, sensing Vic's uncertainty.

Vic shook his head. "I don't know. I can't tell, but something's not right."

"Something about masked men stealing from the docks in the middle of the night doesn't feel right to you?" Robbie asked him, a small smile on his face.

Vic sighed again. "I know, it sounds stupid. But something's off, and I can't tell what."

Suddenly, Robbie didn't find it so amusing. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know..." Vc trailed off, zoomed out a little, watched the men work. "They're moving weird."

"Moving weird?" Robbie repeated. Vic just nodded. "Weird how? Injured? Drunk? High? Like they're being forced to?"

"No... if anything, the opposite kind of weird." Vic turned back to Robbie, shook his head. "They're completely in sync. They're not slowing, they're not lagging, they're not straining with the weight of the boxes. There's no change in their movements. Like, at all. Repeating the same movement over and over again, twisting and lifting like they are..."

"It would have a strain on the body," Robbie finished for him, nodding. "Anyone doing this sort of work would be trying to counteract it."

"Moving, stretching, twisting the body in the other direction. It's a natural reaction. Like moving your head around when you've been staring down at something too long, to lessen the strain on the neck."

Robbie nodded, looking out into the darkness below them. "You're right. That is weird."

"What's weird?"

Donna crouched next to them, Kory following her movements eagerly.

"Are we fighting now?" the latter girl asked. Robbie smiled.

"Not yet," he answered, smiling further at her pout. "We're doing some recon first."

"What's that?"

"They're checking out the scene," Donna told her. "You know, numbers, weapons, planning the best way to defuse the situation with as little damage as possible." She turned back to Robbie, an eyebrow raised. "I hope." He laughed quietly.

"I'm hurt that you would even doubt me."

"So," Donna continued after flashing Robbie a smile. "What do we have?"

"Thieves," Vic said, turning back to the scene below them. "Stealing pharmaceuticals, I think. And it looks like they've already taken out a couple of cops."

Donna waited for a second for them to continue. "There's a _but_ here, I'm guessing."

Robbie nodded. "Something's off with these guys. They're too... professional."

Donna laughed. "What?"

"We've been here ten minutes, not one of them has said a word. And Vic noticed something off with their movements. It's almost..." Robbie paused, thought through his words carefully. There wasn't really another way to put it. "I'll be honest, it's almost like they're not human."

"What do you mean?" Donna asked, shaking her head slowly. "Aliens? Meta-humans?"

"I can't be sure. I can't even see them. But from how Vic described it... They're not the average dock thieves."

"Alrighty," Donna sang quietly. "Then what's the plan?"

Robbie tipped his head. "I'm thinking we go in quietly. Try and take one out, without the others noticing, and figure out what's up with these guys, before we-"

Robbie cut off as Victor held up a hand.

"Can anyone else hear that?"

"Hear what?" Robbie asked, his ears straining.

"It's like... It's like a growling."

Robbie turned to Donna, both of them just as confused as the other. Then, suddenly, realisation dawned.

"Garfield."

A second later, before either of them could say anything else, a thud sounded below them, followed by a loud crash, and finally...

 _BOOM_

One of the trucks set alight, sending all of the nearby masked men flying, crashing into walls, the other trucks, each other.

Robbie sighed. "I guess the quiet plan is out," he mumbled to himself, before vaulting over the side of the roof to the docks below.

* * *

Kory wasn't sure what changed.

One moment she was on the rooftop of a building overlooking the water, surrounded by her new friends, planning how to take out the bad guys. And then, all of a sudden, there was a loud bang, loud enough to have Kory covering her ears, and it was like she was back in that spaceship. She could hear the Psions behind her, following so closely behind. She could see the bright beams of light as they shot passed her. She could feel the jerking of the ship she didn't really know how to fly. The fear in the pit of her stomach. The tears stinging at her eyes.

No longer was she surrounded by friends, allies. She was surrounded by danger. By enemies. And she needed to act.

* * *

Robbie wasn't sure what changed.

He _was_ sure that what lay before him was absolute mayhem, though.

The second Robbie had landed on the concrete, rolling to keep the impact low, the men left standing after the blast turned to him, and Robbie knew they were ready to attack. Now, though, in the flickering light of the flaming truck, Robbie could see what Vic had meant. Their moves were stiff, synchronised. They almost looked... mechanical.

Robbie had crouched, positioned himself to defend, but before anyone could move, someone had dropped down in front of him, blocking his path.

It was Kory, hair billowing around her, eyes hard, hands glowing...

And then all hell had broken loose.

Where the others took on their own masked man, Kory took on ten, with such ease that it frightened Robbie. Huge rays of pure light shot from her hands, lighting up the whole area, burning up anything it came into contact with.

What frightened Robbie the most was that, at that moment, Kory didn't seem to care what she came into contact with.

As Donna flew past, nearly hit by one of the beams spilling from Kory's hands, he knew he had to stop her. Somehow.

Robbie blew out a deep breath. This was probably going to hurt.

He took a few steps forward. She wouldn't hear him. With all the carnage around, it was _loud._ Even with the sort of super hearing he was used to being around, there's no way Kory would be able to hear him approaching from behind. Robbie couldn't decide if this would help or hinder him, here. On one hand, he could maybe take her by surprise. He would be able to get close enough to take her down, keep her from hurting anyone else, and she wouldn't have the opportunity to keep him away. On the other hand, if he scared her, and she lashed out...

After _yet another_ body is slammed against the wall, bouncing off and crumpling to the floor, Robbie decided on another tactic.

"Kory!" he called, hoping his voice was loud enough to be heard over the chaos around them. She didn't respond. He took a few more steps, called her name again, and again. Still nothing.

She caught Gar, sending him flying through the air and into a few of the masked men.

Robbie sucked in a breath, bracing himself. Then, finally, cracking his neck, Robbie threw his arms around her, grabbing her hands tight in his as he did, and twisted, falling to his knees with her below him, his knee on the back of her legs.

Her screams pierced his ears as he felt her hands grow burning hot under his. He kept them tucked against her own stomach, hoping, even in this state, she would have enough sense and self-preservation to not blast them both away. She was strong, stronger than him, but in this position he just about managed to hold her down, keep her still. If there was anything Robbie had been forced to learn, it was how to take down someone stronger than you. Luckily, he had learnt it well.

After several moments, after it all goes quiet behind them, Robbie felt Kory's hands grow cold, her body go limp. For a second, he panicked, thinking she had passed out. Due to what, he wasn't sure. Maybe shock. But the change in her behaviour was so sudden, so extreme, nothing else made sense. Then he heard the smallest sob, felt her shaking in his arms.

Immediately, Robbie let her go, gently lowering her to the floor, a hand on her shoulder turning her.

"Kory?" Donna said quietly, watching the girl scoot away from both of them. She turned to Robbie, still crouched. "What did you do?"

Robbie shook his head. He wasn't sure.

"Get her out of here," he murmured, finally getting to his feet. Donna gestured to the mess behind them. He shook his head. "We'll deal with it. Just go."

With another long look, Donna turned, and after a few soft words to the other girl, bundled her in her arms and shot straight up.

Robbie cleared his throat, turned back to the others. Wally raised an eyebrow, checking in. Robbie shook his head again.

"Well, the good news is, nobody died," Garfield said cheerily, arms swinging wide at the carnage around them. There was blood staining his suit, but Robbie couldn't see any open wounds. He seemed to have healed nicely.

Robbie raised his own eyebrows. "Are we sure about that?" he said doubtfully. Garfield grinned.

"Greenie's right," Vic agreed, taking a few steps away, grabbing something from a heap, metallic, mangled, and still smoking. He held it up for Robbie to see clearly in the light of the fire. It was an arm.

Robbie's eyes grew wide. "So that's what was off with them," he said, sighing. "They weren't human."

Vic shook his head, throwing the arm back where it came from. "Robotic. Explains a lot."

Robbie agreed. What it didn't explain, though, was what they wanted with the pharmaceuticals. "Well," Robbie started, hands on his hips. "Clearly, _they're_ not in it for the drugs, or the money. They're being by controlled by someone. The question now is who."

"And why," Wally added, wandering over to his oldest friend. "But that arm is the largest piece of them left." He lowered his voice, folding his arms of his chest as the other pair wandered away, looking for anything else. "She melted the rest."

Closing his eyes on another weary sigh, Robbie dropped his head. "Is the arm enough to tell us _anything_?"

Wally shrugged a shoulder. "Doubtful. But we can try."

"No need, boys," Garfield called, waving them over to the edge of the harbour wall. Peering over the side, Robbie could see something glinting in the flickering light.

"What is that?" he asked, even as Vic reeled whatever it was in with another one of his arm attachments.

Pulling it up out of the water, Robbie saw it was another robotic arm. This one, however, was still attached to the body.

" _That_ ," Vic answered, pleased with his find, "is the answer to all of our problems."

"Is it gonna tell us what was up with Goldie just then?" Gar asked, smiling innocently.

Vic glared.

"How to defeat Trigon?"

Vic turned, hoisting the robot remains over his shoulder. Gar followed.

"Why a hottie like myself can't hold down a girlfriend?"

In the distance, Robbie could hear police sirens, growing closer.

"Are we staying?" Wally asked him, hands on his hips.

Robbie looked around them, the ruins of the warehouse. Sure, they had taken out the bad guys. But not until after they'd killed the cops that had been sent to investigate the disturbance. And not the _real_ bad guys, who had been controlling these guys. They were still out there. And in their wake, they'd only left devastation.

Finally, Robbie shook his head. "It's too hard to explain this. We can't exactly tell them one of the newest members of the team caused this mess. I can't imagine they'd be too welcoming of her if I told them that."

Wally nodded, surveying their surroundings. "It was her on the ship, too, wasn't it?" Robbie couldn't lie to him. He nodded. "Do you think she can figure out how to control it?"

Robbie grimaced. "She doesn't really have a choice," he said grimly. "If she can't, and stuff like this keeps happening..."

"The Justice League will step in," Wally finished for him. They both knew they wouldn't allow for this kind of behaviour to continue. Even if she didn't mean to cause this kind of destruction, if she was a danger to human life... They'd put the greater good first. They always did.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, guys!**


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